i expect to bleed
when i am cut open
and hurting
i assume the position
i anticipate the agony
i invite it in
like an old friend
i’ve taught myself to
get up and go
uproot myself when i feel
like i am rotting
and parched
when home doesn’t feel
like home
and love feels like a stab wound
that won’t ever clot
I understand
I repeat it over and over
Until my breathing gets slower
And my vision goes black
and i resort to being a
hemophiliac
i expect to bleed
when i feel anything at all
having a body as delicate
as a wilted flower
has never been easy
for someone who refuses to
drive slowly
or love carefully
I’ve morphed into a tree
Taking hundreds of years to grow
Blooming and wilting
In silence and stillness
Learning to accept that it is here that I am
And here that my body will stay
And it will always be that way
I was born to feel lost
Light years from home
to discover what it means to hurt,
to love,
to allow,
to trust that when i’ve felt it all
ill return to my home in the stars
Jun 21, 2019
Jun 21, 2019 at 6:08 PM UTC
Crumbling
Bleak and widowed
Nestled in the leaves of the fall
Like a blanket
Wraps around a child
Who still knows the touch of a star
Before learning “goodbye”
When a wave was
creation of light
And not of loss
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC
Draped in white
A silk wire
Water and fire
We melt together
We form through weather
Hand in hand
We’ll make every season autumn
Paint the leaves in the spring
Boards on the windows
Keep the sun off our skin
Let love swallow whole
Every ounce of my soul
Whispers through the cracks in the floor
A place we call home
Let it never cease to be known
My hands were made to rest in yours
Your heart lies next to mine
Till the end of our time
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC
i’ve lost where i end and
she begins
on the surface, it is true
i love, i see, i dance, i move
we breathe, we laugh
she listens and waits
as i sleep, and i wake
still in disbelief
still afraid
the grass curls around my
pacing feet
and kisses my heels
as i apologize for breaking
her bones
i beg to be weightless
i beg to be free
of the burden of
not knowing
the things i don’t see
i beg for her to watch
how hard i am trying-
but my fear of dying
leaves me wilting
into the ground
please plant a garden over me
step gently over my body
ill try to grow into something beautiful
i swear i won’t make a sound
i swear that ill be content
as long as you’re around
--------
the importance of death -
i am reminded each spring
as the Earth awakens
and stretches her arms
gently caressing my sides
the importance of loss -
as it brings flowers like soft clouds
on the trees around town
it is now that she speaks to me
most clearly
like my mother,
my creator,
my body,
all one.
i feel the trees breathing
i hear them talk of colours they’d rather be
and places they would go
if they had my feet
i hear them talk of the
empathy we lack
the forgotten kinship
our disconnect from the seasons
our disguises and aching backs
but i’ve never once seen fear in their eyes
because even without our love
the stars come out at night
and the trees continue to bloom
every spring
with or without you
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 12:05 PM UTC
A boulder forms in my stomach
It makes itself known through
Deep sighs and inevitable laughter
And it pulls me into the bed
As far down as this stiff mattress allows
Until I fall through
And I’m falling in an
Inconceivable direction
I’m lost
But I’m at home
Somewhere in the endless mesh
Of space and time
In one particular moment
I’d like to visit as often
As time will allow
Maybe I’ll see you in the stars
When I am nothing but movement
And light
And illusion no longer
Burdens me
A billion years from now
I wonder if I will still
Comprehend love like this
Or the feeling of my nails
Running along your back
Your hair brushing across
My forehead
The burning of your eyes
Looking through me
At the layers of time
That have shaped my
Body
Somehow to fit perfectly
Within your grasp
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 12:12 AM UTC
Where do I begin
I can’t feel my feet
I think I’m melting into the moon
I think I’m melting into the walls of your room
I think I’m morphing into
The spring
My fingertips eager to bloom -
To plant something beautiful
Inside the depths of your chest
I don’t want to leave
The lack of doubt is foreign to me
And for the first time in my life
I let it be
I remember the pain
The doubt
That such a word would
ever again leave my mouth
That I could ever understand
My own heart again
You’ve broken down
The strongest barrier I’ve ever built
With nothing but
The softness of your lips
I am raw
I am open
This is me
This is all for you
I catch myself staring at the sky
Wondering if there’s somewhere else I should be
But I’m too busy falling in love
To even hold a thought inside my skull
My body is so fluid
I can’t hold my bones together
I think I’m melting into you
And for the first time in my life
I really don’t mind
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
You hid the truth somewhere
As if no one would know
You set it on fire
the place inside your head you used to go
have you noticed all the people floating
aimlessly around our heads
and you think that you know
its not your place to go
left it only for show
thoughts like bubbles let go
its raining something other than acid
that pools around my body like glasses of
warm red wine
you stagger to the kitchen sink
cover reflections that peek from the faucet
just bittersweet
you screamed at yourself yesterday
when you thought it was someone else
crawling inside your ears
and the lights went out
insulted by all the expressions and
shadows
left around
you’d think after all this time that we
spent
laughing and mourning, you’d sort of have
it figured out
but you left me standing behind the
curtains
calling for someone I thought I knew but it
was only you
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 2:37 PM UTC
a beast is swimming
through pale veins
heavy chains +
blemished skin
irregular heartbeats
conjoined -
creating dissonance,
irregular patterns
in the surrounding
|symmetry|
we intervene
we beg for chaos and
hurricanes
on a beautiful
sunny day
we cant explain why
we can hardly make
a sound other than
our restless sighs
and heavy breath
echoing into eachothers'
ears
i wish you were here.
i wish i knew why
I always ask for
a disruption of peace
That keeps it interesting,
you see
lust is the razor blade
in a candy apple
your unexpected neighbor
gave away with pleasure
and just the same
love could never be simple
love requires destruction
and agony
to create : to exist
and our hearts crave
pain to feel love -
desire to feel impatience
the tug and pull -
dragging eachothers' hearts around
like heavy boots
i've been in love
and i've felt what
it feels to be torn apart:
cell by cell
and to be rebuilt out of
necessity
and i think i've had enough
i think i'd rather
chase you around like a
curious child at a carnival
with no tickets to ride
the ferris wheel.
i'll just stay down here,
rooted to the pavement and safe
watching you circle around me
over and over
if it never began, it can never be over.
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 4:34 PM UTC
it wasn’t you at all.
it was my bedroom.
it was the evening
seeping in, absorbing
light,
i didn’t dare try to make it
right.
i listened to the night.
it sobbed like a
widowed wife,
and i was a child,
afraid to love,
a dad who forgot
and a mom so lost
i watched her rot.
it wasn’t you, not even once
your hands were nice,
ill admit
but i used you.
took your lungs
to fill my own chest.
but i still couldn’t breathe!
how could you do
such a thing
to me?
i gave up everything
i gave up my hopes
my dreams, my life
you became a castle
that i couldn’t leave
i locked every door
and stabbed the key
through my abdomen wall
but i didn’t bleed
i only wept
don’t misunderstand my words
i loved you
so god **** much.
i asked for it.
i asked you to
choke me out
so i couldn’t feel the
self-doubt.
i asked too much of you.
how could a person be
a home to me?
fall in love with the trees,
with the creeks and the
bright blue morning sky
you'll find everything
you’ve ever
wanted there.
it’s freedom
it’s power and
beauty
and love
more love than i could have
ever supplied
don’t hold a finger
like a gun to your
head
you can’t love anything
when you’re dead.
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 9:56 PM UTC
it still burns,
after all these years
awakened, yet tired
my entire life, re-wired
and still a faint echo
could make me collapse
is that you, knocking?
too afraid to speak
a silent hello;
i can hear it, you know
i can sense the itch
and yet you think
i forgot you exist
a fragile mind never forgets
indiana himself,
splattered paint on a shelf,
convertible beach trips
our young minds conjured magic
a lion and a wizard
all alone in the desert
it's too painful to think
even harder to speak
that there's a you
newly invented
that I haven't met yet
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 12:16 AM UTC