I never knew how much I’d see you after you left.
Horse stickers stuck to telephone poles,
A lizard in a gum wrapper in my backpack.
Undressed played on the radio and
your ex girlfriend’s ponytail on the elliptical.
Your cup of water still by my bedside,
It reminds me of you, I won’t pour it out.
Your picture under my pillow,
because everything is you and I
cannot bear the day that it isn’t.
The bar on my 21st and animals on golf courses,
every beer tastes of your lips.
All poems are a dog whistle to you,
so is the toy you pulled from my mouth
and so is the slobber you left behind.
Every girl I meet that stole your name
never wears it as well as you.
I use your shirts as pillowcases
and your hoodies as hugs,
every step I take in Chicago without you
is a dance around your arms.
I hope to never stop seeing you
in the empty space between stars
and in the air you used to occupy.
I see you more,
now that you’re gone.
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 1:24 PM UTC
dont use utensils
but scoop it up with your hands
one line at a time, please
wait at least 30 seconds to swallow
hold the line under your tongue
make sure you taste each word
feel where it goes as it travels down
does your throat burn
do you feel oceans in your eyes
or does your heart expand to every inch of your body
if you feel nothing dont force it
move on,
for if every line was life changing
there would be no constant life to live
there is a poem for everyone
just as everyone has a favorite food
how would you discover it
if you always ordered the same thing
Jul 23, 2025
Jul 23, 2025 at 11:02 AM UTC
I wouldn’t say I am a
mosaic of the people I
surround myself with,
nor a quilt woven of
threads of heart.
Nor am I a window of stained
glass, yet instead, I am
the colors of light that shine through.
For each person to me
is a pigment,
and together we crush rocks
and weave together grains
of sand,
Creating the glass that others look through.
My hands are rosy and opalescent,
learned of love to stay soft
and hold quietly.
My collarbones shine like
leaves in the forest,
their light a reminder that
roots will always be tangled,
no matter what the surface brings.
My ears reflect a
golden musicality, and
that light brightens all the rest,
those who see me, hear music,
and know it is gold.
My head is pooling with sky blue,
as well as the looking glass in my eyes.
This light is blinding, this one I
cannot escape. Poems are written
in the beams and I cannot see myself
without reading them.
And my heart of people,
of their laughs, the unique tightness
of individual embrace.
Light of the sun explodes through,
and with luminosity comes
the knowledge—
For all who have seen my translucence
know the hands that created it.
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 12:55 PM UTC
I didn’t know the stars
could come down to earth
until they blinked at me
through your eyes.
I saw a strange Little Dipper,
tipping over and pouring my life out
until it had reached the very last drop.
You looked at me and
pointed at the sky,
Hand extended up perpendicular
from the asphalt the sweat on
our backs stuck to.
I didn’t see what you saw.
The space between your pointer
and the sky felt immeasurable.
Why is it that the sky needs to feel so far away?
Doesn’t the night sky extend
all the way down to where our skin ends?
The world has always felt so big to me,
but that night the atmosphere
reached your arms.
Your hand was in the same hemisphere
as the Pleiades star cluster,
or, the “silly Little Dipper” as you called it.
For a moment, I could almost
feel the stars beneath my feet.
You cupped your hands to catch my life,
so I could walk through space once more.
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 12:52 PM UTC
I don't want you
to softly kiss my forehead.
I want a thousand bee stings
with your lips
in rapid succession
till my heart and face are
swollen with you.
I never knew I wanted that until you did it.
I don’t want you to
softly drag your nails over my skin—
who am I kidding,
of course I do.
But when it is you
it feels like you are
sculpting me from clay,
like you are finger painting
a landscape and using your prints
to draw rivers.
I want to show up
at your door with flowers and
see you on your tippy toes
staring through the glass
with flowers to give me.
They’re both plum lilies
and both bought because
no perfect person should go
without flowers on their countertops.
I want to hear you **** in your sleep
and snore simply because it means
you’re next to me and
that music is more heavenly
than the silence that accompanies your absence.
I want to go to the store with you
and feel maternal towards
all the stuffed animals that
lay piled in the kids section,
and buy each one and say
“this is our last stuffie, no more”
before returning the next week
on a quest to adopt one more.
I want to walk through an art museum
and be convinced you’re a time traveler
because how could the murals possibly
be so beautiful if they weren’t inspired by you.
I watch in real time as sunflowers
turn their petals towards your face
which seems impossible but
they know as well as I do
that the brightest light is within you.
I want to learn what it feels like
to have my skin stick to yours
and to feel the sting of peeling you
off of me in the morning.
Nothing is complicated when it
comes to what I want in this life.
There’s only one common denominator—
I just want you.
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 12:50 PM UTC
A heavenly grotesque poem about being apart from you while I am on vacation
I feel the familiar stretch of
you extending your fingers from
beyond my iris,
Puncturing my cornea
to try and grasp the Boston Harbor
That I stare across
You draw my upper lip
Into your mouth as you kiss me,
Your tongue sliding
behind my front teeth to
Taste the ice cream lingering
On my tongue from the street
Vendor on the corner of Fenway Park
As you breakdance through the
Canyons in my brain
Your steps accentuate the beats of the
Drumming in my ears
I think of how you would love the
Sounds I am hearing right now
It’s as if my senses only exist to
Pretend you’re next to me,
When we are apart I only
Enjoy things because
I know you would too
All things beautiful
Remind me of you
And you remind me of
All things beautiful
Jun 25, 2025
Jun 25, 2025 at 7:39 AM UTC
Distance measured in miles
is no more true than
rain measured in raindrops
Across the atlantic
I am no closer to you
than across the dinner table
For music is not made lyrical
by notes on a page
nor speeches by words spoken
Every inch between our hands
is a lifetime unspent
And every word unsaid
an eternity wasted
Jun 25, 2025
Jun 25, 2025 at 7:37 AM UTC
Kneeling by another’s choice,
shackles stretch from my hands to my neck,
as I sit in the coffee shop on main street.
I can feel him approaching,
the one who will cut my tongue.
I picture him with fire in his eyes,
with horns sharp as blades and
avarice spilling from his ears.
Not one is safe,
not even in trade
for he will slice their hands off too.
Inspiration stripped bare as bony hands
form a necklace I am forced to wear,
with questions asked
came profession stolen.
My curiosity procured one line
as writer’s block fogged cerebral prowess,
out of his greed-dripping teeth
came words deeper than human ability.
“The moon forgot to rise, but I waited anyway.”
Bound and thrown into the basement
labeled creativity,
we were left to starve
as into his unpaid hands
trees began to wither.
Jun 25, 2025
Jun 25, 2025 at 7:37 AM UTC
When I miss you,
I read the poetry you send me.
I start by running
my tongue through the words,
in the space between the letters,
making sure to hold each sentence
between my teeth to
not waste a single drop of flavor.
I then take each page and
hang it up to dry,
so the words don’t bleed off
when I’m done tasting them.
I wring out each tear and
replace them with gentle touch,
to preserve your craft for
years to come.
Once dry it is easy to
pull the stanzas from the clothesline,
and to burrow under each line,
laying my head on the period
and finding warmth in the
way you tell me
you love me.
Your words sketch a map and
X marks the treasure
I find in us.
It is easy to reach out my hand
and find yours in the darkness,
when your poetry is there to
guide the way.
Jun 25, 2025
Jun 25, 2025 at 7:36 AM UTC