It’s just a feeling,
Needs time to fade out,
Like the drone of a song,
And starlight at dawn.
Anything could end this,
But nothing ever does.
No sunrise to miss,
In the beauty of dusk.
Mar 6
Mar 6, 2026 at 3:36 AM UTC
Scarred and ******
I sleep with a knife,
but the reflex act of life
puts it in your hand.
Faithful acolyte,
I surrender in delight.
How could I deny
when you ask so kind
to see what is inside?
Oct 15, 2025
Oct 15, 2025 at 4:04 AM UTC
In the gulf of our desire,
I freed the fleeting regret
of letting you see me dancing
and letting you kiss me insane.
For the sky over the ocean
turned dark and ****** red
as the sun sank below my faith,
witnessing your unbothered death.
Jun 15, 2025
Jun 15, 2025 at 2:29 AM UTC
Never closer the whole rest of our lives
than that night we caught celestial lies.
Flaming comets, cryptic and precise,
appear in sequence through the sky.
The universe whole sparked,
giving us a fleeting, glowing arc,
for just a moment—then nothing, stark.
Jun 14, 2025
Jun 14, 2025 at 5:20 PM UTC
la luna tiene la intención
entre las cortinas de gasa
de tocar mi habitación
desliza su brazo largo
buscando my pezón
perla que conduce al corazón
de mi carne mortal
no puede deshacerse
su rayo albo polvoroso
sola en la galaxia mengua
y en la tierra los lobos escuchan
cuando la luna aúlla
Mar 26, 2022
Mar 26, 2022 at 10:08 PM UTC
Is it soft, or bouncy? A disc or a balloon?
Crescent, cold, and planetary. I think I am the moon.
Jun 18, 2021
Jun 18, 2021 at 6:00 PM UTC
Ares of bloodied sands
Mars of iron oxide
light and soft, rovers traverse
the cold desserts of death
enveloped in dust storms and devils
mountainous spawn desolated
of eruptions and asteroid wars
mesozoic realm suspended
in space abandoned glistens
through the endless wonder of night
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 2:57 PM UTC
my father asked no pension for his verses
and left no sounds in the house
it wasn't him but the music that died
I asked my mother for his guitar
she gave me a handful of ash
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 5:20 AM UTC
in my knotted abjection
tangled are the fibers
of my mother's depression
she spins into yarn
and in my name twines
i am my mother's half
or maybe more
the chronic haunt
and all her mad
Jan 14, 2020
Jan 14, 2020 at 3:22 PM UTC
the empty space inside of me
vast expanding in my lungs
breathing in to pull you close
breaking my straining breastbone
Oct 4, 2019
Oct 4, 2019 at 5:36 PM UTC