a girl on my floor is engaged and i haven't even had a boyfriend but this mostly doesn't have anything to do with that.

my bookshelf is overflowing with good intentions
and my eyes are overflowing with misperceptions
and my mind is telling me to pay attention
and my heart is telling me about imperfection

because i'm watching with shaking hands.
i'm asking if i understand.
i'm learning about myself and
and i'm learning that i'm made of sand.

and i'm a sand girl
with a sand castle
and the ocean is brushing my hair out of my face
like mama always did,

with her fingers slotting through the strands.
with my fingers slotting through the sands.
and you can tell my mind it's supposed to expand,
but it'll tell you about my hands
and how they aren't as soft as they're supposed to be.

my thoughts are written out on my ribcage
and my skin is as quiet as a blank page
"you'll understand when you're older" isn't a stage
and they'll tell me to act my age,
but i'm falling asleep to the lullaby that played when i turned the key.

sand girls and boys
line up and down the road
and we're asking what we're doing.
we're older.
we're wiser.
we'll lie to our sisters when they ask us,

because they'll understand when they're older.
they'll understand when they're colder.
they'll understand when their shoulder
shrugs off the questions of their sisters.

because my bookshelf is overflowing with good intentions,
and my eyes are overflowing with misperceptions
and the wind is taking me apart as i get older.
the wind is taking me apart as i get colder.
the wind is taking me apart and my hands aren't as soft as they used to be.
and the wind is taking me apart as i get older.


--erin

missed hands

i'm afraid of forgetting myself.
i'm afraid of turning into mist.

i'm afraid of turning into mist,
and it feels like i'm turning away from the sun.

i'm breathing through my nose
but my mouth is feeling cold.

my hands are feeling cold.
i'm afraid my hands are cold.

i'm afraid of falling when there's nothing to catch me.
i'm afraid that i'd still jump.

i'm afraid of becoming the mist that swallows me.
i'm afraid of youth and loneliness.

i'm afraid that they're more connected than i thought.
i'm afraid that they will swallow me.

i'm afraid of becoming the mist that swallows me.
i'm afraid of waterfalls.

i'm afraid of becoming a waterfall.
waterfalls don't have hands.

waterfalls have mist and they turn from the sunlight.
waterfalls can't catch themselves.

i'm afraid i can't catch myself.
i'm afraid of what i can't do.

i'm afraid of what i can do.
i'm afraid of what the world looks like.

i'm afraid of what it doesn't look like.
i'm afraid of what i want it to look like.

i'm afraid of not having hands near me.
i'm afraid of having hands near me.

i'm afraid of proximity.
i'm afraid of youth and loneliness.

i'm afraid that i don't know what either word means.
i'm afraid that they're entwined.

i'm afraid that they've wrapped around me.
i'm afraid that they are mist.

i'm afraid of youth and loneliness
i'm afraid of you and stoniness

i don't need a hand to hold.
i might need a hand to hold.

i'm afraid my hands are cold.
i'm afraid that i've forgotten.

i'm afraid that i've turned to mist.
i'm afraid that i don't have hands to hold.

i'm afraid that hands pass through me.
i'm afraid that i make them cold.

i'm afraid of being cold.
i might need a hand to hold.

i'm afraid of the mist.
i'm afraid i don't have hands.

i'm afraid my hands are cold.
i'm afraid of my mist.

i'm afraid my hands are mist.
i'm afraid your hands will miss.

i'm afraid of you
i'm afraid of me
i'm afraid of the pain in the lines on my hands
i'm afraid of hands holding my heart
i'm afraid of my heart trapped behind the bars of my chest
i'm afraid of giving it to you
i'm afraid of your hands
i'm afraid of my hands
i'm afraid of the mist
i'm afraid of my hands
i'm afraid of the mist
i'm afraid of the hands
i'm afraid of my mist
missing hands hold missing hearts
walk into the mist walk into me
walking away
walking alone
watching alone
wasting away
being a stone
falling away


--erin

[counting raindrops and wellsprings]

[we start light until the rain starts to fall.
heavy follows.]

and the glamour hasn't faded from my eyes,
even if we've stopped spelling it with a "u."

and i am the "u" in glamour and favourite and colour and clamour
and the "o" in ostentatious and obvious.

and they showed me that falling stars aim for my eyes and i let them in
and that falling hearts aim for my chest and i let them stain my favourite shirt.

[and the drops hit your window pane]

"it's the new trend, haven't you heard?
broken chic. bonus points if it's your own blood [i]"

[the river swells]

and they tell me that i can say blood [ii] as many times as i want
because it never goes out of style.

blood [iii] that smells like iron and dirt,
and someone lied when they told you your chest breathes roses.

YOU BEAT BLOOD [iv]

[torrential downpour]

rushing dropping falling lying
about humanity
and the ruby blood [v] between the lines on every page.

[thunder louder than your mouth]

bleed [vi] into the lines like ink.

the general consensus:
"call it love, call it hate, call it joy, call it pain,
you'll always bleed [vii]."

[lightning hits the ash tree]

humanity bleeds [viii].
there is no glamour.

it's raw, it's gritty, it loves dirt in your wounds.

[and the pain won't wash down the street
with the fallen leaves]

and i am the "u" in wounds and humanity and hurt and run
and i am the "o" in blood [ix] and mortality.

and it takes ten to fall apart.



--erin





[because the rain fell like blood]

[x]