you, who parted
in trickles of silk,
your eyes shining
like a priceless gem
and i, hollowed—
an echoing shell,
a desert in my soul,
a shadow's farewell.
Nov 25, 2020
Nov 25, 2020 at 9:15 AM UTC
there are only two cases:
either something's wrong
with the world we live in,
or something's wrong
with me.
Nov 20, 2020
Nov 20, 2020 at 2:24 AM UTC
You were the sky, and I,
patches of green.
A lone seed long burrowed.
In flight, it quietly dreams.
Now the nights are long and
the months cold,
still I feel your warmth
in my damp home.
Aug 26, 2020
Aug 26, 2020 at 1:36 PM UTC
I think we'll make it far,
my lover.
I think we'll make it far,
but I admit in late evenings
or when grief runs to the bone,
my thoughts wander
to vast unknowns—
to walking along a shore
with no footsteps
except for mine;
to leaving the country
where I know no name
no number nor sign;
to acting on maybe's,
chasing the sun
setting on the sea;
to being free;
Still I do not linger.
We'll make it far, dear lover.
To be free is not to be alone
I fear nothing but losing a home.
Aug 2, 2020
Aug 2, 2020 at 12:20 PM UTC
the warmth of the tear
falling on my cheek
scattered light, wandering feet
a shadow in the empty street.
the rise of my chest
staring at the darkness
on my own, still i
feel like i'm home.
Jul 26, 2020
Jul 26, 2020 at 6:19 AM UTC
i sit on a bullet train.
blinking—
trees, roads, houses,
zooming, blurring.
i don't know where to get off.
the doors open.
still i do not leave
my seat by the window,
waving them goodbye.
where do i get off?
am i running towards
the world
or away from it?
i close my eyes,
unhurried,
and wait for
the ride to end.
Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 11:40 AM UTC
they tell you,
"you can be anything
you want."
but you wake up
each morning,
and the mirror
greets the same face.
and heavy you sleep,
tied down
to who you are.
Jul 4, 2020
Jul 4, 2020 at 4:26 AM UTC
you were a supernova caving in,
burning so bright you burned yourself.
a mighty flame that lit up the night sky,
falling and crashing from its own scalding flames;
self-destruction rips a hole in itself,
leaving a wreck that ****** in anyone
that got too close.
Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 8:09 AM UTC
the coffee's too bitter
and i'm losing sight
of a rose-colored dream
that tethers me to actuality.
i wish i could sleep but
the acridness permeates,
feeding my mind with a thought
that runs, and falls,
and caves in—
like a dying star,
devouring any hope of
a good morning's delight.
the unwelcome has now stirred awake,
so i hide between these words
and wait for salvation to
take me under its wing.
alas, the clock keeps on ticking.
maybe peace never visits at night.
Jul 11, 2019
Jul 11, 2019 at 1:23 AM UTC
do you ever
finish doing something so
you think about what to do next,
but you're drawing blanks and
you realize that there's nothing left to do?
You sit there,
and you're thinking
of ways to pass time
but nothing you want to do comes up.
You feel done for the day
but the day isn't over yet,
and this sinking feeling erupts
that makes you feel like you're doing something wrong,
but it's ineffable, so
you do the only thing you can:
watch the clock,
wait for the sky to turn dark,
and then
go to bed and sleep,
because
sleep brings tomorrow,
and tomorrow is certain;
tomorrow you have something to do again.
Jul 2, 2019
Jul 2, 2019 at 9:01 AM UTC