I miss you
I know you're in there
up there
working away
chin on hand eyes on computer
and,
I miss you
I miss my hand on your chin
your hands on me
and your eyes in mine
I miss you
I miss you
just wanted to say hey
didn't want to interrupt
just wanted to say
I miss you
Feb 11, 2021
Feb 11, 2021 at 3:25 PM UTC
I crave every life that is not my own
and wonder
why nothing fills me
the way I believe
being you would
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 5:05 PM UTC
I cannot cry with glasses on
Cannot shake the tears out of my eyes
Can’t drag them out by their hair
With glasses on
So I put my glasses on
Because I cannot cry with glasses on
And I do not want to be crying
So I sit in front of my computer
My fingers typing faster than my mind is racing
Just to keep ahead of the game
Because I cannot cry if I am working
So I keep my to-do lists long
And the obligations overflowing
The pressure never ceasing
Because I cannot cry if I am working
I cannot cry if I am working
Even if the working is hurting me
Because I cannot cry if I am working
I cannot cry if I am working
I cannot hurt if I am working
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 6:05 PM UTC
I want all my idols to be false
All my effects the placebo kind
All my monuments temporary
My loves the fleeting type
Cause I’ve got bones of gold
And I bend easy
Impermanently made
Permanently desiring
Permanence fearing
So make all my monuments temporary
All my loves the fleeting type
Feb 8, 2021
Feb 8, 2021 at 9:07 PM UTC
Why do I feel
Like I've just inherited
The body of someone who's done something
Worth being praised for
When all I feel
Is like something made of paper
And peppermints
All sticky and clingy
And fragile and flimsy
Why do I feel
Like I do not belong
In this praise
Like it is not me
They are talking about
Like it is someone else
Like the greatest game of switcheroo
And old 2000s movie
Like the ones I watch
To try and not cry for and 1 and 40mins
What do I have to do
To be made of iron again
To be made of polyester
Never rotting never dying immortal
To be made of wood
To be solid and warm
When all I feel
Is made of paper
Like the wrapping
For a gift I'm not
Feb 8, 2021
Feb 8, 2021 at 7:23 PM UTC
fall asleep with me
in nothing but underwear
and your skin
hold me close
fall asleep, fidgeting your way
into the right curves of my body
until you fall into place
or don’t,
maybe we’re forcing it
waking up to dead limbs
but that’s okay
for now
sleep with me shirtless
so I can rest my cheek on your bare chest
feel the softness of your skin
against my hands when I pull you into me
and when we wake up
I’ll run my fingertips
Over your collarbone
And clavicle
Your shoulders and the edge of your jaw
Till you kiss me
In the early morning sunlight
Falling bright and asymmetrical through the curtains
Forming a near spotlight
And my hands on your bare skin
The applause
A spotlight to you
To your hands in my hair
To the way you look at me
When you sleep with me shirtless
And kiss me in the sunlight
Feb 8, 2021
Feb 8, 2021 at 7:22 PM UTC
it's been too long,
since I've seen you
and I wonder
do you still find my hair?
on your sheets, pillow, sweaters, and cushions
or have they all been picked up
and let drift into the waste bin
when did you stop finding them
when did I need to come replace them
when did it start being too long
since I'd seen you
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 5:17 PM UTC
do you have some time to ****
to leave ****** on the floor
while my bare feet will dance around it
avoiding the pools
or stepping in them
to make art on the hardwood
out of happiness and the touch of my skin
do you have some time to rot
to bury in the backyard
where we lay in the grass
and I play with your hair on my lap
and the sky cradled laid upon my thighs
do you have some time to spend
the clink of quarters tumbling out of my laugh
as I shake pennies from my hair
leaving copper on your pillow, your sheets, your floor
the sheen of a dime in the light of my eyes
your skin, soft as a worn paper bill
do you maybe,
have a little time
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 5:16 PM UTC
My body is falling apart
I crack my right-hand pointer finger
And it gets sore, each time I do it
Crunching, more than popping
And aching as it does
The fingers on my right hand
Don’t type right anymore
The pinky, ring, and middle
All tight and unforgiving
Clumsily stumbling across the keys
My jaw,
Pops and cracks on the right side
Always sore
Always an aching sort of pain
That clicks when I chew gum
And think about talking too much
The bones
On my right foot
Don’t look quite right
They bend in the wrong places
The skin above them blue
atop sticking calcium, where the skin should be smooth
my body is falling apart
and that is a metaphor
the right side
is falling apart
and that is a metaphor
because my body is falling apart
the right
is falling apart
and it is a metaphor
it is a metaphor
god
It is a metaphor
A broken metaphor
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 5:14 PM UTC