not a vampire.
i wore a face—my face.
and i loved all of you.
the rot, the brilliance,
the childlike wonder.

the stargazer.
the girl drenched in moonlight,
choking on hope.
not the one coddled in hotel bed-sheets,
asking for more.
not the one who drinks the bottle of wine
on the ride home—
but who am i kidding,
i loved her too.

for in the summer,
we chased love, not oblivion.
but chasing anything
with you
was a life better than without.

i can’t explain it.
it just is.

so chase it with me.
i brought the needle, the drink, the comfort.
i’ll find the drugs.
anything for your palette.
even if it means saying goodbye to all i know.

you don’t think you are worth it, do you?
but it’s something i can’t explain.
it just is.

whatever it takes—
the wine from my glass
because there’s no tequila,
the bar is closed.
pancakes drowned in syrup
like at the diner,
just the way you like it.
remember?

whatever you want.
baby, you got it.
apple pie, baked just right?
c’mon, i’ll read all the lyrics.
spend to spend,
c’mon, just don’t fall asleep.
don’t fall asleep tonight.
fight with me.
stay awake.
fight for me.
don’t fall asleep—
then there’s no goodbye.

you painted me as a figure,
not a man.
reading from a photograph
the paragraphs on your phone.

in your room cast with figures,
i was the flower.
and i wore a face.
and i rubbed circles into your shoulders
until my fingers went numb.
ate of you until i bled from the nose.
begged—for scraps,
for anything that felt like it was yours—
just to know the jars on your shelf,
i didn’t want to become one.

i cherished you
with all i had to give.
even though i was fucked up,
a liar,
i never gave myself away
to anyone but you.
that was new—
being made to you.

but it’s too late.
and that’s not okay with me.
but it needs to be okay.

it’s just hard.

i know the girl who laughs,
fires bullets blindly into the dark,
daring the other side.
taking me inside of her,
again and again—
for ruin
but i never called her
some heartless keeper.

i got to know the shadow girl.
i called her Denise.
and i loved her
more than i pitied her.

she’s not the girl
who guesses the vintage of the wine
or tells the bad joke to the bartender—
or wants to please everyone.

she’s the one who doesn’t care
what happens to her body anymore.
whose eyes roll back
face to face with the faceless.
dodging kisses.
reeking of nothingness.

dancing with vampires—
men who never bothered with names,
snorting, grunting—
knowing only the weight of her,
as if you were ever in control.

it wasn’t you who kept them
like a thing hanging from your hip.
the shadow girl.
invincible, only in ink.

but i can calm her tonight.
the man-eater.
i need Denise.
so don’t have too much wine,
i want to kiss you.

that beautiful gentle side to you
it will forever be my light,
of which i’ll judge sunny days.

you were my salvation.
i can’t explain it.
not to my dad or anyone.
you just were.
where there were once shadows,
i saw supernovas.
you were my salvation.
you were the spirit,
man’s rebellion against god,
i called you Denise.

-

and me—i was everything
to everyone, and
nothing,
to you.

i have it all:
a way with words,
a life,
a warm bed—
but not you.

but i’m not faceless,
spineless,
or a loser.
i broke free of fear
to give my heart to you.
i dared to dream of us.
me.
i was more than weight.
i was feather.
i wore a face.

and i saw yours too,
in our sober mornings.

and when nothing came from me,
in the hotel,
when i couldn’t finish—
when you rolled over,
i wanted to go home, yes.

this version of goodbye
felt like losing our summer.
but who am i kidding,
i still loved you—

“did you want me to chase you down the hallway?”

love has only ever been taken away from me.
this new resolve you had wasn’t so foreign—
vampires and shadows,
and this new thirst you bore,
like my own.
night after night,
chasing numbness.

the shadow is winning.
come back to me.

meet me again in the circle,
with the candles and Jimmy.
i miss you there.

but who am i kidding—
i still love you.
i pity you like this,
but i love you more than i pity you.

you’re not some shadow girl to me.
Denise,
i still see you.

but in the morning,
you left me.
you wanted no more.
and i wept
like a drunk catholic—
not the cathartic crying.
the kind that screams
at a life alone.

all the power i had,
drained from me,
my heart felt weak.
i finally tasted
the world i spoiled
when i couldn’t tell the fucking truth—
even to god.

“i felt so alone before i met you.”

i’m stuck on that moment.
when you wouldn’t eat.
i wanted you, desperately.
but i couldn’t mix up the rhythm.
got too drunk again, sweetheart.
so how could we be okay?

“i felt so alone before i met you.”

that’s the crux of it.
i had everything but a friend.
i had everything but a friend.

i called her Denise.
i still long for her lips, every night—
because i’m no good.
but loneliness is god now.

and the murderous racket
in bumper to bumper traffic
on cold drives home.
the car was never lonely.
it was music.
and laughter.
baby, you got it.

i’ll listen to the lyrics this time.
watch the stars again with me.
watch a movie on separate screens.
stay up tonight.
don’t go to sleep.
please.

—

i stumbled into friday,
and where’s Spring?
it left since you left me—
but she smells sweeter than you.
more expensive.
maybe it’s the champagne.

but i hate it—
because it’s not you.

and i don’t want this send off.
some six-out-of-ten goodbye.
fallen—another shadow
in your collection.

i don’t want this at all.
back to my old ways.
i spent a fortune tonight.
she’s younger than you.

i hate it all again.
and i can’t cry.
i don’t cry anymore.
the tears don’t come.

the world where i was safe has disappeared.
and i can’t cry.
it’s scary.
i can’t cry.

the girl i cried with—
the one who moved me—
i can’t explain.
she was my salvation.

i loved her more than i pitied her.
i called her Denise.

you wrote that poem.
it wasn’t for me,
but it leveled me.

i was just a number at the deli counter
in those lines.

it was your best work.
the birth of an artist.
the death of my light.
my salvation.

i called her Denise.
but she took me out of her heart
in those lines.

compartmentalized me.
made me faceless.

i still loved you
more than i pitied you.
but for the first time,
i feared you—
the way i fear myself.

the way you feared me—
the inconsistency,
the walking on eggshells, the kind i grew up with.
waiting for me to come home late at night,
when you don’t want to face me—
the vampire.
moving.

so what were we?
the ones that never had the time?
if so, stay up with me tonight.
don’t fall asleep.
please.

—

and while i lie here, wrecked,
bones soft—
my spine folded in prayer—
i’m still hoping
that when the scent of my skin
catches you by surprise,
or my laugh rings out of nowhere
like a school bell—
you remember—

even if i was just
another vampire—
at least i was your favorite.

and once,
you called me Adam.

—

i regret it all
it’s pointless.

if we had a chance to do it all again—
it’s still not forever.
and that’s not okay to me.

but it’s all i got.

because once you called me Adam,
and it was nice to be seen.
and i can’t cry.
and that scares me.

but it was nice to be seen.
and once,
i called you Denise
to anyone who would listen.