my starving heart
another turn of the stars
never further from your arms
Apr 11, 2019
Apr 11, 2019 at 6:18 AM UTC
And nothing will compare to that first love
unrequited, the way your heart aches
To reach out and touch her hair.
It falls like molten gold in the light
of a summer’s day in the Shakespeare
garden, you’re shaking with anticipation.
Laying in the grass, she leans over and
applies your lipstick with her finger.
Teenage adoration hangs in that lazy
afternoon, the cusp of fall, the first of
a thousand deaths.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 4:36 PM UTC
light scatters—my rain-spattered
windshield, dark roads below darker skies
praying our problems might align
that we may patch the cracks in our lives
I saw you in the moonlight, caustic
smile caught by 2am drives
I knew you would be the telephone pole
with which my car collides
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 10:46 AM UTC
tasting god from my fingertips//
to this matchstick (every time a part of me breaks,
my flesh bursting forth clear and pure and seraphic,
i kneel between the pews) /you lead me drunk//
off the rooftop, the night we first kissed.
i’m in a dull, grey cube, wincing at fluorescent terrors
look down and i’m naked, veins peeling open/
/Will you come back, if i show you
how much i feel it? it couldn't hurt—
i couldn't hurt any more than this/
my friends haven't known spirituality
past a bag/ pushed through through your truck’s open window/
passed a bar passing hands like a love note
limp joints burning our fingertips//
your hands, my throat
open your nose, open your eyes to the world
watch the clouds racing through the sky
and in this moment// everything is perfect
heaven's light falling upon our faces
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC
today my sadness took me driving
past empty fields, beneath a pinkish sky
pondering an emptiness that can't be filled
despite how hard I'll try
it leaves me asking why
weeping over the beauty,
(a bed of gold beneath cotton candy)
so sweet it makes me sick, saccharine
leave me nauseous, fill my heart
with spit.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 11:29 PM UTC
You are:
a pile of spent lighters
sunrays through smoke
a searing bath, which feels
like an embrace
we will meet at the threshold
of water and oil.
we will meet at the brink
of night and day.
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 7:12 PM UTC
TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE
The meds stave off the spiraling thoughts:
Void, this part of me,
(that languid fluidity) of
“I will die by my own hand”—
if not today, someday.
But also the intensity, that fetid lustre
of that which glimmers ever brighter
because it will soon be lost...
I feel its absence intuitively, like
the way I know I’ve forgotten my keys
My heart managed to grow around
That fester, but now, I’m left a cavity—
I hope life may flood this atrophy.
If not today, someday.
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC
It's late. /awake
unbroken Moebius, (of
"look what you did) "look what you said") hated)hated)hated)
i remember carrying on like nothing was wrong with me.
they wouldn't meet
my eyes./
I am
being
carried
away—
to that terrible world of my thoughts
, alone;
if i can survive this
circumspection,/evade reaching tendrils
I may fade
into black—
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC
dawn breaks, marking another
passing day. awake, you will
stay ‘till the trapping dark
another night of lonely avoidance;
you're perpetually under the influence.
you remember less and less... .
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 11:23 PM UTC
On a hot summer day,
Your eyelashes suffuse sunlight,
Golden waves undulate as you
walk in front of me
I’ve pressed flowers between the covers
of the book I’ve given you.
(I’ve underlined the most romantic
lines of his sonnets.)
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 4:19 AM UTC