i know i can leave now, and i know how.
but, is it so wrong to visit?
is it so wrong to want to stay for a while?

i know it was my prison, i begged for escape
but, i haven't found new refuge
i haven't made anywhere else my home

it's the only home i've ever known.

01.23.24

i'm sorry for my cold staring
in response to
your fondness of me

my mother could only ever
love me in code
when she could at all

i spent my life decrypting it
and i'm afraid
i'll spend the rest of my life
trying to decode
all the love i will ever know

19.01.24

When I first felt used,
My light and warmth abused,
By grips mostly loose,
I was three years younger than you.

But getting better ain’t forgetting
And I’ve got no right to complain,
I volunteered this body, this heart
To be set ablaze.

Carved by my grandmothers,
Hollywood lit my fire.
The kiss of an Irish boy by the bay
Sent me on my way.

Now I need to be needed
Until they need me too much.
Then they turn me black and blue
And call it love.

I didn’t know love needed
So much blood.

Now I’m growing up.
At 26, I still don’t know love
That you don’t need to beg for,
You don’t need to bleed for,
And you’ll never be too much.

I still don’t know what it feels like
Not to flinch at the first touch.
I know it might never come,
But with you it was close enough.

I didn’t know love needed,
So much blood.

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.