You don't need two of lots of things,
legs to walk on, eyes to see
But if this world needed two of something
it would be two people, you and me.
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 12:46 PM UTC
If you're not being fed
what you need,
find a new cook
Apr 11, 2017
Apr 11, 2017 at 7:55 PM UTC
As I watch the day close its eyes, I remember
I forgot to think that thought.
Tomorrow, for sure
Tonight, I will sleep through this hunger
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 7:39 PM UTC
I'd like to call this anchoring a vagabond,
those blue eyes guiding me home
Leaving isn't easy when you want to hold what you have
With you, I have found the music in silence
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 7:38 PM UTC
It's always the same story, never a true story
These stories of power and stories of glory
They fill me with rage, they fill me with fury
A culture unthreatened has room to grow,
while it beats down others, left with nowhere to go
They didn't "evolve," they were destroyed
Shoved into the crevices of history and into the void
It's the politics of denial,
A nation where those of color aren't even given a trial
I want to one day live in a country where the severity of the crime isn't determined by the color of your skin.
When with equality conquer? When will it win?
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 9:08 AM UTC
I will never forget the night you held yourself above me, a vision I never thought I'd see.
We trembled.
We both shook of the storm to come,
the one that would quench the thirst of the living, bringing life to all that lives.
You tenderly took what I willingly gave and that was the beginning of no end.
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 8:44 PM UTC
Carpal bones project with a sick joy in feeling small
Wrap your hand around and notice the room within the width
The hold has grown so that contact is no longer necessary to move my feet
no longer analogous to mountains.
More like the wind they shift when summoned.
With the kind of malleability that can only come from being broken,
I must accept that while winds may advance, mountains change their course
I'm called to the pit to play an unfamiliar composition
with an instrument I've never before held
Wrists break under the weight of being a novice
in an orchestra of eyes all too knowing
And I can't make them listen,
Or maybe I can't make myself heard
Because there is a difference.
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 11:44 PM UTC
All these toothbrushes look so similar.
I don't see this ending well for somebody
Well for two,
the user and the used
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 1:48 AM UTC
Crawling upright
Days days
You think nothing
of
Time
passing you
You're crawling upright,
forgetting the date
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 7:05 PM UTC
You put on the layers I take off
You shiver, I flush
My face begets the commencement of a rainbow,
betraying any coolness of composure, and I wonder if there is a correlation
between our temperatures and temperaments
You demand but you don't know what you want (except for me to
turn off the air conditioner)
It's the claim without the pick up,
an unspoken ultimatum: *don't come
come too close, but let me into your bed*
In the morning I wake sticky
Not a **** sticky, just a sweaty sticky
While the stars were making their rounds,
a window must have closed– No. It must have shut.
Air stale, covers compromised, last night already a memory
I reach out, with expectation like sunrise,
but a deflated glove doesn't grab back
I blink a few times, registering the significance of flaccidity
My spirit depleted, now unnerved and unsure about
the plan for breakfast
Walking away you leave no comma, no colon, no ellipses
For all the warmth that pools in my cheeks,
it is you who scalds with your minimalist approach
You are not Frank Stella.
And with that, the door closes– No. It shuts.
To make a mockery out of this would be to bump a bruise
that I didn't mind getting; I was having too much fun falling
to see the truth in black and blue–
I didn't anticipate this chill.
I never got to know how you take your eggs.
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 10:05 PM UTC