I caught myself in the mirror while getting dressed.
My shirt is off and
there
on my chest
is a thin red line
tracing exactly underneath them
I guess my shirt was bunched up all weird
or something
the words do not make it to my hand in time
finger tracing the mark like a familiar scar
the world and time and language all stop
because I can feel him
pressing up against reality
from somewhere in my mind
or maybe a parallel universe
Or something. I'm almost late for the gym.
Jan 10
Jan 10, 2026 at 3:07 AM UTC
when i look to lovers chanced
i realize what i long for
—is a mirror, a reflection
an impossible understanding of the self
and a link beyond what is tangible
Oct 6, 2025
Oct 6, 2025 at 3:58 AM UTC
these echoes are still in my mind
(that look in your eyes,
the one you gave across the world)
scraps of you torn apart by time
(the promises we made,
wavering like a conquered flag)
Jul 5, 2025
Jul 5, 2025 at 5:19 AM UTC
the light bursts through, glowing
not scattered or winnowing in
the grasses are thick, and even taller still
the creek itself is quiet, but there are children playing there,
among the ticks and cats, birds and gnats
and here, i realize i am more alive
than i have ever been
Apr 20, 2025
Apr 20, 2025 at 8:52 PM UTC
I hear it under the wind
a whisper so faint, to be taken back
as if it was never spoken
I hear it over the hill
a murmur betwixt the grass, cut short
out of fear it was remembered
I hear it in the woods
a slow chanting, but shrouded
in the night, away from starlit eyes
I hear it on the wind
it travels to me now, a whistle
harmonic to the air and the sky
Try as you might,
the birds are singing the song of the people.
Jan 22, 2025
Jan 22, 2025 at 5:35 PM UTC
that “star cross’d lovers” must be true
your radiance to my pale and blue
heavy on my heart, your golden hue
in sunsets i pray my honor to
Dec 22, 2024
Dec 22, 2024 at 9:11 PM UTC
tonight, i pull my blanket up to my chin
unsure if it is to comfort or suffocate
whether i slumber for good, or to wake
in a world most unfamiliar
Nov 6, 2024
Nov 6, 2024 at 1:22 AM UTC
The bed only knows the weight
That leaves it for, unknowingly, the last time;
The warmth no longer pressed to its quilt,
The down that will never sink again
Oct 4, 2024
Oct 4, 2024 at 1:51 PM UTC
and while I claim to be free
to soar over these fairytale castles
into bigger dreams, better things
some part of me still dwells here
and begs—would you still have me?
Sep 18, 2024
Sep 18, 2024 at 5:00 PM UTC
my mother's wedding dress
cut through the middle,
a red ribbon slashed against skin
unwound, destroyed, unknown
Sep 12, 2024
Sep 12, 2024 at 9:22 PM UTC