a fire like you

I have decided to never again put myself through hell for love.
This life is far too delicious to be spent burning
for men.

Your sisterhood has made this terror of a life
light and breathable.

You were taught to work miracles for everyone
but yourself.
A messiah to others but barely a friend of your own.
These, darling, are things you must undo before you become undone.

Honestly,

I can’t keep pulling from the ruin. I can’t keep returning to the ruin. I can’t keep being the ruin.

I haven’t quite figured out what the loneliness is meant to teach me, especially when it crawls into rooms I’ve filled with people.

You should know,
burning is not the only way to come to poetry.

You don’t have to pry open a wound to have a story worth telling.

How much tired is in black living?

To my editor Melissa Zahorsky, Kirsty Melville, Kathy Hilliard, and everyone at Andrews McMeel, thank you for giving my words and me a home

To my literary agents at Folio Literary Management, Katherine Latshaw and Erin Harris, I am deeply indebted. Thank you for believing in me.

hope she doesn’t hesitate
to eat the room and everyone in it.