Does a wolf mourn a deer,
After slaughter?
Will my mother mourn me,
Like I was not her problem daughter?
I cry and beg
And slobber and scratch
I make love to water
As if I am not a lit match
Am I the bullet hole
Through my eye?
Am I the scars
That litter my thighs?
For when sunlight dies
After being bruised for so long
I find the words sickening
Like ***** on my tongue
Words like “Sorry”
Words like “I love you”
Words that stick in my mouth
Like gum to the bottom of a shoe
And while the ***** coating my tongue
Makes me speak such vile words
Tasting like milk straight from the carton
Having formed curds
I claw at my throat
And stick out my tongue
Cannibalized by speech
Slicing the nerves in my lungs
And while my flame sputters out
Like water consuming a match
While the music stops
With a shrieking record scratch
I know I will not be grieved
No tears will soak my shallow grave
And worms crawl through the hole in my chest
Where my heart has turned concave
Where my grave lies untouched
At the hill on Dove Road
Where my soul sits with the newts
With the turtles and toads
Mama
Am I still your baby girl?
Can I still sleep in your bed
After being so ruined by the world?
Mama
Please love me still
Please visit my grave
At the top of the hill
May 11
May 11, 2026 at 10:22 AM UTC
Why is love so hard to define?
So hard to catch,
To feel,
To let ourselves get attached
Is it the slot between our fingers?
A space so perfectly fitting,
The slim fingers of a lover
One so unforbidden
Or maybe it’s the slam of a door,
When trusting makes us blind
Or the clenching of fists,
And the teeth you’ll try not to grind
And once hearts are shattered,
We find it hard to specify
And hard to feel, to care
Without being terrified
For hurt and love,
Cannot be bound
When you cry and beg,
And sink into the ground
For I love like a dog,
Loyal and broken
Crying and howling,
As your teeth tear me open
And love is not cemented,
It’s cruel and messy
And I stand before you as you shout
“Go on, impress me!”
So I’ll spin around
And give you my hand
For a morsel of love,
Comes with every command
Love cannot be defined
Because we all love different
And man is not pure,
Nor is he innocent
So slip your fingers between mine,
And tell me you care
Then I’ll sink into the mud,
And say one last weary prayer
Apr 16
Apr 16, 2026 at 8:49 AM UTC
I am a boat
And she is the river
She holds me while I cry
While I tell her I'm a sinner
Every imperfection
Every scar on my skin
She gives it all to me,
And I hold it deep within
Love’s a funny word
Because it’s never enough
It cannot amount to the nights she spent working
To feed me till I’m stuffed
She grew up in nothing
Yet gives me the world
And the love I hold for her
Is one well deserved
If I could hold the stars in the sky
If I could count the scars she used to hide
Infinity would never come close
And through all the battles and bruises,
She's the one I love most
Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 9:51 AM UTC
Beads encircle my wrist
I twist, and twist, and twist them
And the fire roars behind me
A mind consumed by mayhem
Hands encircle my waist
And eyes trail behind
Squeezing my soul until the desire pours out
And I am left blind
I kick my hind legs
Hungers seeping from his bones
And soaking my skin
Running through my hair like a comb
And it’s sewn into my DNA
To be looked at and wanted
But never to want for myself
To lie back and let my throat be slit
I am in the middle,
Of what I want and what’s right
So, I let my skin get drenched
And I sit under the drainpipe
The pride of Man trickles down
And leaks right into my soul
They can stare and sexualize
And still stay on government payroll
And I am Echo,
Punished for wanting
And you were Narcissus,
A reminder that I was built for watching
Your desire snaps and screeches
And mine hides and bleeds
The difference between the simplest things
And the space between these heartbeats
And I am drained of wanting
Leached of all hunger
I’ve gotten hasty hands and wandering eyes
Since I was much younger
They echo those words
“Product of our culture”
In every cruel tale
Of a violent lover
I am no hunter
I find myself more like the deer
Teeth sunken into soft brown fur
Eyes still wide with fear
And with every hand around my waist
Every bead around my wrist
I turn another wandering eye black
And I make myself noticed
Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 9:47 AM UTC
-AN AMATURE REWRITING OF “REVERSIBILITY” BY CHARLES BAUDELAIRE-
Angel of love,
Have you known heartbreak?
The tears that fall to the ground,
And the everlasting ache?
Angel of peace,
Have you known war?
The blood that has been spilled,
And loss like never before?
Angel of light,
Have you seen the dark?
Hands curled around nothing,
Empty prayers for a spark?
Angel of beauty,
Have you seen the ugly?
The prejudice in the world,
And the hate for that which is unlovely?
Angel of music,
Have you heard the silence?
The beat between the yells,
And the quiet driven by defiance?
Demon so cruel,
Have you ever been in love?
Or just turned your head from the light,
And cursed the angels above?
Mar 5
Mar 5, 2026 at 7:40 AM UTC
[April 4th, 2011, 1:34 PM]
As I step outside,
My shoes thudding on the pavement,
I feel my chest expand and contract
Taking in large breaths of air
Marcus is on a work trip
So I’ll be alone for a week
I can breathe
I can breathe now
The old man at the farmer’s market,
Gave me a warm smile
And handed me a small bag of cookies
“It’s on the house”
He assures me
Still, I grab a few dollars from my bag
And extend my hand
“Thank you so much,
But I can’t ask you to do that.”
He smiles and takes my hand
“You didn’t ask, dearie,
I offered”
I thank him profusely,
And continue wandering around the stands
And for the first time in a while,
I find myself smiling for no reason at all
[April 6th, 2011, 5:46 PM]
The sound of sweet music,
Echoes through the kitchen
I keep my grip on the knife steady
As I dice vegetables and chicken,
And throw them into the pan
I usually despise cooking,
But perhaps music makes it better
I sway my hips back and forth to the beat,
Back and forth
Back and forth
Humming softly as I smile
My ears are filled with the sound of,
Sizzling and the strumming of a guitar
And I feel my shoulders get lighter
And just for a moment,
I feel like I could be something
[April 10th, 2011, 11:34 PM]
Marcus comes home tomorrow morning,
So I’ve decided to clean up a bit
I vacuum the carpets,
Wipe the tables,
Mop the floors,
Take out the trash,
And make the bed
My back hurts from cleaning,
But I’m not ready to go to bed yet
I walk up the steps to the roof
And push open
The bright red door labeled “EXIT”
The wind blows through the opening,
As I step out onto the roof
The cold air chills my bones
And the ground freezes my thighs
I sit down and rest my head against the wall,
Overgrown with moss
And I feel myself get lighter again
As I slowly drift off into sleep
[April 11th, 2011, 5:52 PM]
“What the hell, Andy?!”
I awoke to screaming that morning
“I come home from a grueling work trip,
Expecting to see my wife at the door.”
No, no, no, no, this can’t be happening
“And it turns out she’s asleep,
On the ******* roof!”
My body tenses up
“I’m sorry,
I didn’t mean to..”
What have I done?
Twack!
I cradle my face in my hands,
Trying to soothe the mark
“Get up, we’re going back inside.”
A cold hand grips my arm,
Tugging me along
Dragging me
I beg and cry
“I didn’t mean to,
I swear it was an accident!”
My feet drag on the carpet of the hall,
Tears streaming down my face
“Please, you have to believe me,
I just fell asleep!”
Cold fingers wrapped around my wrist,
So tight it hurts
“I’ve had enough of you.”
The slamming of a door,
The hit of a palm
And then an apology,
A soft voice,
And a promise
“Because I love you”
The same song and dance
Over
And over
And over
Again
And again
And again
Again…
…
Feb 17
Feb 17, 2026 at 8:49 AM UTC
[March 25th, 2011, 12:34 AM]
It has been a while since I wrote
I am logging this from,
The library
I told him I was visiting my mother,
Back in Washington
Mary is in the back,
Fixing me a cup of tea
And stressing over every,
Tiny wound
I tell her that I’m okay
But she knows better than that
“I’ve been on this earth for 68 years,”
She says,
Her voice is soft but strong
“I’m not so easy to fool.”
I look down at my shoes
The library is warm,
The lights are strong and bright above me
The old woman sits across from me,
And folds her hands delicately in her lap
“You’re safe, little bird,
“You’re safe here”
[March 31st, 2011, 4:56 PM]
“I’ll be okay, Mary”
I assure the old woman as I pack my bag,
To go back home
“I trust you,”
She slips a few old books,
Inside my bag
“I just don’t trust him”
Her eyes search for mine,
But I don’t look up
The cold metal of the zipper,
Something tangible,
Real
“But I trust him”
I dig my nails into the fabric of the bag
“That’s the problem, little bird…”
[April 1st, 2011, 3:40 AM]
Again
I’m out on the roof,
Again
And hug my knees tight,
To my chest
“I do everything for you,
EVERYTHING”
I replay the screams in my head
Pounding through my skull
God, I should’ve listened
"But you never listen,
Do you?"
The stars whisper,
Their cold lips brushing my ear
I dig my hands,
Into my skull,
Tangling and tugging,
At my hair
"Why won’t you listen?
Listen to us,
Listen to us!"
“Stop it,
“Stop talking..”
"-LISTEN-"
Sobs echo in my ribs,
Biting at my tongue
“Please…”
And then silence
And then I am alone
Just as I have always been
Feb 12
Feb 12, 2026 at 8:15 AM UTC
[January 12th, 2011, 3:47 AM]
I walk out onto the roof,
Of my apartment complex
And it is cold
And the stars are out
But I will not look up
I find the sky a painful memory,
At times
My feet thud on the floor and,
I stare down at the holes in my shoes
And the bruises on my legs
“I just tripped,
That’s all.”
[January 16th, 2011, 5:12 AM]
I am out on the roof once more
It’s getting harder to fall asleep again
Again
Again
It’s always again
I can never do anything for the first time,
Or for myself
The bruises have gotten darker
But I guess there are some wounds,
That don’t get better with time
And my gaze never lifts
Not to view the nebula above,
Because I know the,
Stars are whispering
And I’m not ready to hear it yet
So I stare down at my shoes
Again
Again
Again
[February 10th, 2011, 2:52 AM]
The snow from last night cast,
A thick coat over the city
And it is too cold to go out to the roof
Too cold for another escape
I remember the spring after snow
When the stars weren’t so susurrous,
And I could drift off peacefully
Without his hands,
Snaking around my waist
Without praying every day that he might,
Be too tired to notice me
And I could sneak up to the roof,
To stare down at my shoes and
Pretend the constellations weren’t whispering,
-Come back home-
[February 15th, 2011, 6:02 AM]
The snow has dissipated,
So, I am back out on the roof
My thighs pressed against
The freezing pavement
Though I don’t think I care all that much
Though it feels nice to have something
To shock me back to reality
Every once in a while
[March 7th, 2011, 3:24 PM]
I went to the library today,
After he left for work
The lady at the desk
Was very nice
“Mary”
Etched into her name tag,
Weathered by time
She made me a cup of tea,
And she sat me down and asked,
“What’s your story, little bird?”
[March 9th, 2011, 12:16 AM]
I sit on the edge of the roof,
Feet dangling over the edge
The ground is far away
I could fall
I could jump
I could escape
But I don’t
I press my hands to my knees
And take a heaving breath
My chest rising,
And falling,
Rising,
And falling
Dark splotches encircle my wrist,
Perfectly formed
In the shape of an angry palm
One that has struck faces,
And gently stroked the marks afterwards
And I forgive
And I stare at the ground saying
“Next time,
Next time I’ll listen to the stars”
Feb 12
Feb 12, 2026 at 8:08 AM UTC
Oh, Nova
Named after the stars
She really wanted to make you proud
And she tried so hard
Oh, Nova
A ghost inside of a girl
A ballerina dead and buried
What a hidden pearl
Poor Nova
Never got her chance
Missed out on all her younger years
She’s done her final dance
Unknown hands dance over piano keys
An untuned, dissonant sound
A candle burnt out
A dancer with her feet bound
Oh, Nova
Every part of her made pure
Distilled the blood inside her veins
Made to be mature
Oh, Nova
Gone but not forgotten
But the girl never died
No, she's a corpse unrotten
Poor Nova
How her talent’s been wasted
Now she yearns for silence
An end long awaited
Poor, sweet Nova
A ghost inside of a girl
A ballerina gone mad
In this cruel, cruel world
Feb 3
Feb 3, 2026 at 10:15 AM UTC
Her head hung on a branch
Body way down below
And everybody cheered
Everybody but the crows
She was a docile creature,
Called everything but her name
For every atrocity she went through
Somehow, she got the blame
And her name was not *****
And her name was not “liar”
Yet those words were carved on her skin
Right below where they tied that wire
And so, the world was better without her
And so, the accused get to run free
But the towns people never saw,
Never understood what she preached
She never appeared *****
Only with scratches along her arms
And she’d keep her door locked at night
And she’d never go in the barn
She never appeared *****
Though she never felt clean
Scrubbing and scratching,
Till she felt the flesh beneath
And the priest denied everything
And the people believed him
Because why wouldn’t they?
They didn’t see his hands on her skin
And the men found her in the streets
And held a knife to her throat
They were friends of the priest
They said they were provoked
So, they strung a wire around her neck
And kicked the box from beneath her
And they called it “punishment”
Never once admitting to the ******
The crows swarmed above her
Guiding her lost soul
And their squawks sound like sobs
Like they’re there to console
Her head on a branch
Body way down below
And how they all cheered
As her ghost was let go
Jan 14
Jan 14, 2026 at 10:26 AM UTC