March This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

They say, “In like a lion, out like a lamb.”
In like a lion:
When we first met, you tore me open
I was once whole,
Or as whole as I thought I could be,
Until you ripped the stuffing out of me
And replaced it with yourself.
You did not happen like some gradual descent
into the unknown,
Your full force grabbed me by the throat and
drop-kicked me.
My crippled body is yours if you want it,
And oh, you wanted it.
In like a lion:
When we first made eye contact I could swear there were literally sparks
And the room temperature went up ten degrees
And I didn’t just fall, I plummeted.
You visited me the week after that,
And the day after that week,
And every day after that.
When we first kissed I thought my body
was on fire
Only your touch would cool me down.
In like a lion:
You declared your love like a roar
across a vast savannah,
Marking me yours like a brand across my sleeve.
That day we spent swimming in the ocean
When you hooked hands with me as we dove
in wave after wave
Gave me a better high than any surf could.
If you were a wave, I would have drowned in you,
My lungs would have filled with your taste
I would see only the bright color of your eyes
My body would numb at the sound of your voice
I would close my eyes for the last time
to your smile.
Out like a lamb:
The beginning of the end is always
so chaotically poetic
Instead of a burst like a firework signaling
the end of Independence Day
It starts with insignificant stops.
My name no longer sounded like a prayer
in your voice
Eyes that followed me around the room leave
after seconds
Our eyes meet and the lightning at my fingertips
Is a cool blue, ready to flash across your body
in a brilliant display
But lightning isn’t complete without thunder
And though I tried I was useless without
your booming response.
Out like a lamb?
I once thought that you filled me like lava
in a volcano
But we are close to the point of eruption
You will spew and flare out of me gradually
Until the day we finally burst.
It will either be brilliant or the death of the garden we planted around our Vesuvius.
The volcano does not want to let go of its warmth;
The lava is ready to leave and is awaiting its explosion into a new world.
When you leave me after dinner,
You kiss me on the cheek.
It sizzles, but it no longer makes me ignite.
Out like a lamb:
When you come over to get your hoodie that comforted me at night
The air leaves me like a balloon;
I can still be filled again, but I’m distorted
and stretched out already.

Falling is fun when you are not falling alone
But your parachute worked and mine failed
So I scream as I drop into an empty pit,
I am angry that I’m shouting your name for help.
When you leave my house, you do not look back.
Everything is black and white and you are painted in a beautiful tone
But in the mirror I see red. Only red.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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