poetry

they are always surprised when my tongue comes whipping out

men come to me for healing
I lick their wounds clean

I’m trying to be more

my spine is made of stems growing

I am leaving butterfly kisses on flowers that I grew from my body

did I love you too well, too quickly?

do the layers of my skin make you weak

does my open tongue sting you even when she comes gently

dear god,

it’s been a while. I haven’t missed the old you that much. but sometimes I miss the old me. the one that was so

maybe it’s me

maybe I don’t have the capacity for a healthy relationship

maybe I fall in love too quickly

my expectations are suffocating

let the moon undress you before they touch your lips never forget