skin peels from bones, submerged in crimson liquid:
and if you were to look inside me,
damn aesthetics, break my ribcage free and
delight my lungs with your tongue of venom,
your eyes would light with glee at the
the worst miraclereading my drunk poetry about you
makes me feel drunk again
dizzy eyed, violent desire
you’re the only calm to my storm
with respect to my past self,all of my writings have led up to
y o u and m e
and i should have known before we even started,
i warned myself before i even knew the color of your eyes
i listen to too many 8tracksi've never told anybody this,
but i'm telling you now that someday
i'm going to swim into the ocean
and never come back.
i'm going to swim so far out
that not even the largest lighthouse
could find me. i'm going
to let the seawater soak
into my veins until i'm bursting,
salty with the bitterness
of all the times i never had,
like the nights you rubbed
circles on my back. i'm going
to fight against the current, knowing
that i'll be defeated before
i even begin. it doesn't matter
that someday my body will be found
by either man or animal, for this body
is mere transport; my soul
will be of the sea, of the tides
that wash onto the shore and cling
to the sand. and maybe,
if you look closely enough,
you'll find me riding the current
probably a few weeks agoyou’re seven cups of coffee in and it’s 1 a.m.
the waffle house countertop seems
expansive in the dim light.
for the first time this night,
you deny your waitress the right
to pour you another cup.
if coffee can’t keep you awake,
you lay a tip on the tabletop when she is
bent over her phone.
she might be your age,
rings etched under her eyes
from a procession of shifts spent
waiting for the sun to rise.
outside, you spark the lighter.
smoke slides down into your lungs
then shoots back out your nose,
curls in haloes above your head.
wade out into the adjacent field of barley
where the plants are hunched over
in their opulence; teeming with granules
that beg for the harvest.
cup the soft soil in your palms,
mix it with the scintillating light from the diner,
and realize you are only just beginning to understand
the complexity of things.
saccharineshe’s made of cotton candy:
spin, twirl, break, then dissolve.
sugar rushes through her veins,
viscous, arteries clogging
from the buildup. her eyes are filmy
and she leaves a sticky residue
wherever she touches. many
find her a delight but she rarely stays
for long, her presence disappears
as their lips forget her name,
their tongues forget her taste.
she starts everywhere and ends
nowhere. parents warn their children:
stay away, she’ll make your teeth rot.
yet they persistently return
with their nickels and dimes,
insisting on just one more taste.
seasonal reflectionsi. autumn arrived with a reckoning,
the pine cones held secrets and they’d whisper
to me in the night as their sweet wood hands fell
to the ground; i tasted maple honey
while sticky fingers scraped bark
that screamed sweetly to the sunset
ii. winter came slowly, timberland
freeze and peppermint icicle swirls
on frosted puddles as cold as Siberian igloos,
Eskimo girls in bear skin hats and leather gloves;
i was never one of them but i heard
they breathe out steam in glacial time
iii. spring bloomed and so did the bruises,
black and blue like Van Gogh’s starry
night, minus the stars; my teeth grew crooked
as wildflower veins and my hair sprouted
like meadow grass, i pretended i was a coppice
nymph and at dusk i sang with the cicadas
iv. summer sought the hidden gardens,
the scorched earth cultivated secrets in barren
soil, foolish, i dug for the answers but uprooted
only last year’s seeds, tore the foundation down
with broken nails; i danced with honey feet on
It’s been a year and I can still remember waking up, disoriented and alone. You were my compass, and you left. I don’t quite know how, but I’ve managed to make my own way without you. And it hurts. God, it hurts. Sometimes I wonder where you are and what you’re doing and who are you with? Are you with someone else? Are you with him? I know you won’t ever receive this letter, that the postal service will realize how hopeless these efforts of sending this are, but I can’t help myself. I can’t help that I still think about the way your lips fit perfectly with mine or how right it felt to be with you. I know that this message will end up as one of thousands of others in the dead letter office but maybe, just maybe, it will reach you.
Six months and four days: that’s how long it’s been since he has sent the letter. He lives in New York City, in an apartment that he still has yet to pay
Theological Semanticswe are on vacation in Florida
when she asks me, “what is God?”
and i correct her, “who is God?”
and she shakes her head, repeats
“what is God?”
the sea sounds fill the gap.
i can see a storm roll in
over the ocean expanse
and i take a breath and answer:
God is all of the things that can’t be explained
with recitations and verses.
God is the space that empties itself to tangibility
and the ghosts that scream in the wind.
God is the meaning between the breaths and last night’s
whiskey running through your veins.
God is the reflection in your eyes and the mist exhaled
into January nights that evaporates under the moon.
God is the sounds too high to hear, frequencies
not meant for humanity because we would misinterpret.
God is all of the pasts that never were and all of the
futures that will never come to be.
“does that answer your question?”
and the sea washes
away our footprints
The Eventual Give and TakeI can always tell when I’m pushing you over the edge, and I want to stop, I do. I want to close the wounds I’ve opened, to patch you up with dollar store bandages so you will no longer bleed sorrow. I want to make it okay. I want your eyes to shine like the stars you capture and your smile to reflect sincerely when you look in the mirror. I want to please you and I want to unburden the weight I put on your shoulders. I want you to be joyful, but not happy, because happiness can be washed away as quickly as sand is pulled back into the sea. I want to be your escape, not your prison. So give me the key, and I’ll lock it away with all of the other things that I want.
My dear, what you lack in understanding you make up for in insolence. You have never come close to pushing me over the edge. You have never made me bleed sorrow. I may appear to break and bend to the whims of your subconscious desires but remember: an ounce of advice makes for a wealth of p
Coffeeguts pile over white
sheets and blankets.
i spilled them to you
and you still said
i looked lovely
a black sticky stain.
how many chemicals
can your stomach handle
before you have to drown me?
how much bitterness
can you swallow?
you are my
cream and sugar, darling.
and it tears me in half
when you split your skin.
if you aren't careful
i might not be able to
sip you up again.
i am a powdery shadow
cold autumn breezes
and breathless clouds
but if i could keep you
breathing, my world might be
a little more alive
psittacosisthere are feathers
in the endless pit
of my stomach;
in the clavicular head
of my chest.
my gut, travailing
from the bottom up;
from my lips.
before it is clawed open
by the talons
of these hallowed doves.
in a bed of ankles
k(n)eeling me over;
a million sheets of quills
scaling my sheath;
and religion-weight over
my frame angles
Feel like shit? Read this. Hey you.
Yeah you, reading this right now at this very moment.
You are awesome. No, really, you are.
You may not believe me, but it's true. You don't see it because you're upset right now.
Whatever you're going through right now, whatever has upset you or turned your life upside down, just know that it won't last forever. Nothing good lasts forever, that's true, but nothing bad lasts forever too.
Eventually whatever you're going through will pass, you'll move on through healing over time, and you'll be able to be happy again someday, don't worry. As long as you don't give up. You may never completely get over it, or it may take years or more to move on from, but I can promise as time goes on the pain will become less and less.
It may feel like no one gives a fuck about you, and you may want to give up on living, but please don't. I can promise atleast one person out there gives a fuck. And if no one does, then I do.
If you have no friends, I ca
how to write better poetry.i.
drink down the words
of the greats in a wine glass.
hell, drink down the words
of teenagers struggling
to straighten out the
gas and brake pedals
of their pens.
drink it all,
carefully structured stanzas
and sloppy melting words
make time for it
even if it's midnight
and all the world is humming
its sleep song.
dig up your soul
and shake down the dirt
over and over
until it becomes habit.
(and I know that might
sound like a pretty metaphor,
but it's easier said than done.)
do it when it hurts.
do it when that one person
you never thought you'd lose
leaves you nightcrawling.
do it when you're so tired
you speak in natural riddles,
do it mentally at morning coffee
and grocery checkouts.
force it until it feels
after all, no one is born a poet;
we carve ourselves fresh,
make art from our own
find a springtime kid
with the kind of smile
that causes shipwrecks.
he will warn you to stay away,
but you will
The Girl Who Was Afraid To BeShe speaks to me fondly
of passions and talents,
of guitars and stars,
with such breathless intensity
then stops short and
for speaking at all.
All because somewhere in her life,
someone she loved broke her heart
her beautiful words
and telling her to
keep it down,
People aren’t born sad.
We make them that way.
GayI am gay.
I'm not a disease, I'm not a problem
I'm not an affliction
I don't need treatment.
I don't need help
I'm not sick
I'm not confused
I'm not a sin.
I am gay.
I'm your daughter
Your co worker
A complete stranger
I am gay.
I need love, just like you
I need smiles
I need support
I need a hug
I need a friend
I need a family
I need acceptance
I need understanding
I need you
I am gay.
I know what love is
I know what pain is
I know what hate is
I know what life is
I am gay.
And I need you to love me
The same way you loved me before you knew
I am gay.
And I have experienced hate
From more people than just you
I am gay.
And I wont change.
I wont give up.
I wont back down.
I wont pretend.
I wont lie.
I wont deny.
I wont hide.
I wont hurt.
I am gay.
And that's okay.
There is a weight
You asked me to hold.
(Just for a while,
Just for a while.)
My tendons strain and snap,
I lack your Atlas strength.
The crushing force of gravity
Makes me weak, makes me sore.
Take it back, take it back,
But you’ve gone away.
I’m sinking down, I’m sinking down.
The water rises to my throat.
Pushing down, rising up
Drowning and drowning and drowning.
Take it back, please take it back,
Where have you gone?
I’m pinned beneath this weight,
With water to my nose.
My lungs fill up with salt,
Choking and screaming and breathing
Only freezing thickness of water.
Where is that mild friend oxygen?
Where has he gone?
My stinging eyes are blind here.
I cannot to escape, unwilling
To shed this leaden snare
Wherein I dwell confined.
I grip it tightly.
Surely I will die,
Sweet air has left my blood
I lay back and let black water take me,
Frozen fingers loosen on Your weight.
And all at once
it falls away
I watch i
what to say when you can't say i love you anymoreyour eyes were always soft, even when
your voice went hard. for a while,
i treated you like a god and i’m
not saying that i worshipped you,
but i let you hold my hands
and i told you all the sins i carried
in their grooves.
i have since been told that they were never
your burden to bear,
but that doesn’t stop me from aching for you
every time i catch myself thinking
about how it would feel to kiss the girl
two doors down. it’s been a while
since i’ve confessed and i’m not sure
i remember how. the thing is,
i don’t feel that guilty anymore.
the thing is, holding hands is only
ten fingers away from letting go
and we got so good at toeing the line of the cliff
that when you finally jumped, i forgot
i was supposed to follow.
i swear i thought i could keep you floating.
i swear i didn’t mean to let the water
into your mouth. sometimes i wish
i could kiss you dry again but i know
that’s not how this thing works, that’s
not the way