you see
as much as i see
that we cannot
yet we both know
which goes to show
how good we get
each other
you make this hard
for it to be easy
just to reach out and
hold your hand
with my small hand
because even doing
that
folds my heart, cornered
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 10:54 PM UTC
Coastlines create beautiful circles
and I wade between them
But I wish to stand at the edge of the earth
and scream over to the sun, now
brushing the blue desert
at dusk
"Where do I go from here?"
and she just replies as she always has
with a rising moon.
beams scattered
on my sandy, small toes
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 8:22 PM UTC
I had a red dirt romance
in those hills along the river
- hills that hoist you to the sky
and the mud challenges the sun's dark burn -
it was in those trees, I grew up like one.
planted deep, but reaching for new water
clouds, smoke, and hawks brush branches, but stay
firm against snow fall and bark beetles
I have been lifted by the bones that carry me,
skins that hold me,
waters which have cleaned me
I will leave this place soon,
and I will always love those trees
on the hills
by the river
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 8:17 PM UTC
I am parched dry
like the Nevada desert
east of home,
thirsty for reassurance.
My roots are deep in snow caps
but, from my perch, all I see
is somewhere distant
and drier
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 8:05 PM UTC
you see
as much as i see
that we cannot
yet we both know
which goes to show
how good we get
each other
you make this hard
for it to be easy
just to reach out and
hold your hand
with my small hand
because even doing
that
folds my heart
corner
i do not choose wisely
and i do not release
rarely
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 10:22 PM UTC
There isn’t really ever a train.
--I mean, it's outta context
unless you on it.
And when are you ever on a train?
you know, when they block the road
in the sleepy town
aside the thundering
63, 64, 95 cars.
Doesn’ matter
It’s always a metaphor: leaving, coming, dying, running
feel the sound
in your bones
feel it in the ground
the cold, cracked dirt
a train, loud and cold and *****
embodies our semi-permanent
pressing desire to be somewhere
else.
Not find somewhere, No.
Never here.
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 4:15 PM UTC
tearing up
the roots that once held me
stuck to the surface
of the earth
is easier at night
when no one can see
spread-eagled on cold hallways.
wandering the house,
almost tripping on the stairs
before realizing
i was bleeding from the fingernails
i pried at for too long
when feelings and thoughts become one
and tell me I'm wrong
again
and again
I want to believe
against obsession
that I didn’t this time
and I won’t the next.
i keep searching the skies for
my rocket ship
take me to the quiet space
where I can remember how
small I want to be
when feelings and thoughts become one
and tell me I'm wrong
again
and again
I want to believe
against obsession
that I didn’t this time
and I won’t the next.
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 9:10 PM UTC
I owe no explanations
I need not justify my worth
I love when I feel and
I feel when I love
I will not apologize
For creating an ocean at my feet
For touching the sky with my eyes
I am a tree, growing from
every direction
Loosing leaves from nesting birds,
Still breathing.
So I will not justify my worth.
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 4:09 AM UTC
The cosmic process
of spaghettification
is real.
Going through a black hole causes
an object to elongate
and stretch.
This phenomena makes the individual
observe a never ending edge
in the distance.
To an observer, they are infinitely stretched.
Until they don't care anymore and turn away.
And the individual just keep wishing
for the ultimate simplification
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 11:42 PM UTC
so much to say
violence in head
everyday, I
say something stupid instead
So much to say
bracing the salt-waves
that skin me more red
I bend over laughing because I'm so brave
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC