It almost feels as though,
if I hold the words to my throat, the heat of my blood
will transfer itself through paper--through intentions--
until it rouses tragedy and plucks the frost from
each delicately chosen word.
It almost feels as though,
if I cradle him in my thoughts, the boy will learn what I already know
and run before history catches up with him.
He will run and cry out his grief and his fear and he will escape his spies, his responsibility, his head, his conscience, his ties, his ghost, his guilt.
But no man--no, boy--can outrun a demise like this when
he's tripping on the roots of the family tree and failure
has taken his father, his mother, his friends, his affection.
The only person helping him stand back up is merely a messenger.
Cast thy nighted color off,
sweet prince of Denmark.
Breathe once in
the warmth of my heart before a colder kind of
messenger comes to carry you away, no longer a son of any sort.
Or are you still?
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 5:27 PM UTC
I feel God touch my cheek
while the congregation sings-
and for a moment, everyone is in key.
I hear my mother crying in the bathroom
and my sister singing beneath the porch light,
I hear my father's voice cracking as he tells me about his father
and my brother bidding me goodnight
with every chorus of Hallelujah.
I have been broken, I have lain defeated on these hallowed steps.
My eyes burned in the light of our savior and I fell with little grace.
I had lost all faith;
I had given up everything.
Now I stand as myself behind Him
while the congregation sings,
and from now on, love is not a sin.
May 28, 2017
May 28, 2017 at 2:13 AM UTC
I feel God touch my cheek
while the congregation sings-
and for a moment, everyone is in key.
I hear my mother crying in the bathroom
and my sister singing beneath the porch light,
I hear my father's voice cracking as he tells me about his father
and my brother bidding me goodnight
with every chorus of Hallelujah.
I have been broken, I have lain defeated on these hallowed steps.
My eyes burned in the light of our savior and I fell with little grace.
I had lost all faith;
I had given up everything.
Now I stand as myself behind Him
while the congregation sings,
and from now on, love is not a sin.
May 28, 2017
May 28, 2017 at 2:13 AM UTC
Conditional love, dark red
like the back of my hand-scraped it again.
I've been dreaming of darkness
where I'm free, far from Mother's blistering light.
How long has it been since we kissed?
The days in the cool ended so soon.
"I changed," I promise Mother every morning,
but come night, my heart is still yours.
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 7:18 PM UTC
The sunlight catches itself in the reflection of lacustrine mirrors
and lingers to watch the day fall
until shadows chase them into cool waters,
deep where a girl is laughing beneath the surface, clinging to
something beautiful and wild; an animal that sings at the bottom of the lake,
waiting for a lover to catch ankles with.
Trading shackles for wrists,
it cries briefly while you hold your breath.
And then, the sky is light again,
and the water clear of any life.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 10:27 PM UTC
You will search for someone else's hell
when your own is fear tapping at the windows when it rains,
reminding you how unwanted
a wolf girl is, with her bared teeth
and sharpened claws that will break
when the truth slips out of her jaws and onto the cheek of an angel girl.
You will search for someone else's hell
when your own is being kicked out in the rain
for loving with blackened lungs of wolves
who've been stuck in the city,
when they are meant to be alone in the valley,
miles beneath the angels' wingtips.
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
The sun kisses your skin goodbye,
as the world turns away into night, so shy.
The girl isn't waiting up for you.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 5:29 PM UTC
pass through the gaps in your ribs,
never where you want them -
trapped in you heart and beating with the drums.
they can't hear the music
so you'll turn it up and up.
the bass is pounding through that skull
but they'll never even know.
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 6:46 PM UTC
Stills,
taken through a looking glass,
show that we're in love.
But not even photography and film,
not a single art form in the world,
can capture the blue of your eyes, or
that booming laugh,
or the bleeding of my heart.
Joy and sorrow,
****** fighting to meet air,
fighting to leave permanent scars everywhere
that read over and over again,
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you..."
These words will never be enough
for a universe that's always expanding,
threatening to break through skin and make you mine.
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 3:51 PM UTC
Our bodies brighter,
We belong here together.
Like stars colliding,
a brand new shock of conscience.
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 11:48 AM UTC