how is it the world keeps spinning but nothing
in my world ever changes
how anything can happen
but nothing ever happens to me
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 7:11 PM UTC
they've cut off the branches i used to hang my
self on
stubs remain
wet and crumbling
and the ornaments lay scattered on the floor
my soul quivers and folds in
to the ground
every time i return any desperate regrowth
is cut back shorter
the stubs break piece by piece to the floor
and my trachea bends in a red-knotted bow
around the stump with the largest
bump on the end
out through my rib
cage around my throat wrapping
wrapping lethally around
my soul and my
heart and under
my chin
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 3:21 AM UTC
give me sleep
the waves have lapped over me
for years now
and the crashing has left me shivering
give me sleep
until the moon pardons these waters
for just a day
while we wait
just let me be null
give me sleep
so that when i wake again
my throat is clear and air flows freely
and my chest sways with the tide
instead of against it
until then
give me rest
give me rest so i may wake refreshed
to face the rising moon
without this salt water chest
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 5:09 PM UTC
i'll never write for you
after this day.
on this day
i dust you from my heart
declutter my rib cage
remove every careless remnant of you
that i kept as sentiment.
after this day
i'll redecorate my brain
with seedlings and lights
and your memory
on my mind's windowsill
will consume me no more.
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 8:16 AM UTC
i sit in the still air
that asks nothing of me
only useful because
my body deems it so
the air
not needy
like me
or accusatory
or insinuating my purpose
is to have a purpose
like me
my chemical body
so earthly
changes the air
elemental
powerful
like me
the air does not belong to me
and its purpose is not to serve me
the air understands me
and to be free
in tune with me
just be
is all it seeks
like me
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 6:44 PM UTC
i'm in the sort of mood
where i feel i should be able
to write the most exquisitely torturous poetry
i'm in the space between my memories
in which i see the cracks in time
and the cracks in my future in
to which i could so easily slip
and
yet
i find here a barrier between my torn
and throbbing heart
and my brain
much like the opacity between my
last experience here and today
what words could possibly describe?
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
when i'd be asked in the past
'do you collect anything?'
as a child i'd feel an obligation
my friends collected buttons,
christmas ******* rings,
compiled shells,
or gas station keyrings
so i collected can tops
and squishy toys from beach side shops
pointy pointless scraps of metal
that now sit in a dusty jar
and stuffed lizards and seahorses
in a box under an old bed
and when they said
they didn't get it
i knew i didn't either
but i'd say the metal
is sentimental
it really is a keeper
honest
and now i'm older
i'm no objector
to being a collector
promise
because in a box
inside my heart
beyond the dust,
i'm honest,
i keep a stash
tied in a sash
of all the things
i've sprinkled with stardust
of all the memories
of days i loved
and too ones fogged with miseries
of scars formed from thunderstorms
for thorns are as much of a blessing
as the caressing from surrounding roses
of people who loved me
and people i despised
of eyes i glanced at once and
should i see again
would go unrecognised
for when i'm collecting moments
i am collecting lives
and there is no better way
to be alive
than revising every moment
as if it were chosen
by you
from that gas station
instead of just through obligation
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
I wish I could tell you
How much the quality
Of my day
Depends on the quality
Of our interactions
But the quality
Of my years
Depends so much
On your reaction
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 10:48 AM UTC
I'll bet the first man or Neanderthal
To write a melody
Was lonely
So I'll sing to the stars
Never so alone
Yet ever so alone
And I'll sing to them
I'll sing
Of how a little ditty saved my local city
In the home my stars have built
And that man
In irony
Encased us
And welcomed us to be
Never so lonely
Thanks to a uniting little melody
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 4:27 AM UTC
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oh oh my god it's only the first line
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 8:16 AM UTC