Suffering is the secret tongue
spoken only in our sleep
as we break bread over the loss
that covers every bed we find ourselves in.
The trees shed their skins
in a damning disappointment
of the betrayal they witness
night after night.
The stars rearrange and dim
rejecting my begging eyes
hoping to catch a glimpse
of an enduring brightness.
I'll close the curtains
to protect the guilt that floats
in air saturated by the sweat
I've gathered for years.
It slowly feeds on by body
until no skin is left
to receive the porcelain touch
withdrawal entombs in my head.
Dec 23, 2025
Dec 23, 2025 at 2:35 AM UTC
the silence doesn't just deafen
it cuts the skin
straight to the bone
etching a figure
of my head bowed
at the thought
of needing to fill emptiness
with emptiness
i don't know who to mourn
so i'll bow my head
and grieve that silence
i've never known
Dec 23, 2025
Dec 23, 2025 at 2:23 AM UTC
these dreams
are a symptom
of the stillbirth
lingering deep within me
of the sickness
that eats me
piece by piece
that sees these jaded images
through glassy eyes
that speaks these empty words
falling weakly
off the edge of my tongue
to their deaths
in the desperate draw
of a foreign breath
so eager
to be one
with that which is
still yours
Dec 23, 2025
Dec 23, 2025 at 2:20 AM UTC
Grief is a son to no mother,
a nomad stuck in place,
complacent to the path forward,
a slave to the porcelain touch
of an outstretched hand
but left only to sweep dry rose petals,
long withered and crumbling,
slipping from in between the pages
that kept this love whole.
Sep 29, 2022
Sep 29, 2022 at 4:56 PM UTC
You are the corners of my lips
You are the grip on my wrists
You are the habit I won't kick.
Aug 29, 2022
Aug 29, 2022 at 1:24 PM UTC
I'd walk through the flames,
inheriting any semblance of warmth
to remind myself that the burns
paint my skin in masterpieces.
Dragging uneven nails across my eyelids,
I'd pry reluctant skin apart
and beg my tears to blur the carnage,
knowing that every drop lost in the fire
is one wept for us.
Feb 10, 2022
Feb 10, 2022 at 11:45 AM UTC
Dedication is a wound
clawed into my chest
caressed by the ridges of your lips
that combed my own
with the taste of your kiss.
Nov 12, 2021
Nov 12, 2021 at 1:18 PM UTC
My skin separates in each stride
to allow for your apparition
to seep through my pores
clouding every direction
in which I hope to escape.
Your ghost guides me hand in hand,
over the fading footprints
we've made in the concrete
that supports my only home.
Moving forward, block by block,
we uncover the debris we've laid
to cover our tracks
in search of a shade of violet
I'll never see again.
The asphalt parts with each step
revealing a halo in the gutter,
one removed in reverence
to the praises you sang me,
a desecration of the swan song
reverberating in my skull
every single ******* day.
May 7, 2021
May 7, 2021 at 12:37 PM UTC
We allow absence in
to provide a catalyst
for gardens to grow
only to learn that life
is simply the vessel of loss.
That the tangled dead roots
beneath the thriving flowers
are the remnants of beauty passed,
surrounded by guarded earth
to protect the perennial grieving.
We soil our calloused hands
to remove the layers of dirt,
revealing the likeness of an unveiled widow
exhausting flakes of skin
to rid herself of grief,
only to discover that the roots we pull
crumble in our hands
as do the memories of love lost.
Apr 22, 2021
Apr 22, 2021 at 1:51 PM UTC
A stillborn love will infect
every meaningless breath we take
until the last one escapes our lungs
and only then will our passion flatline.
Like red strands of hair falling slowly,
collecting on the same tile
that cradled my knees
in the darkest moments in which
I couldn't bare your absence,
our love dissipates in time,
rediscovered in the most unexpected,
brightest scenes of remembrance
only to be lost again in the hands
of those who would grab at the affection
we savored only for each other.
Apr 15, 2021
Apr 15, 2021 at 10:07 PM UTC
