Summer was only a whisper
away, I could feel
the honeybees on my tongue
when we ditched class
and followed the beaten trail like snakes
in the grass. High sun, high eyes, you
always liked them. What a drive, you say,
pulling into an abandoned lot where
foxes rule like kings and weeds are
becoming.
Too easy, you skate across the paths
like it’s winter and this is the pond
in my parents’ backyard. Same trees,
same sky, sure, but as we walked
beneath the looming canopy of branches
and nests, I felt celestial,
like an unwelcome guest
who breaks down your door and
marches on all your pillows and antique
breakables. They say a cave collapsed
millions of years ago, fostering
this grand gulf, a dwarf Grand Canyon.
We scaled down the side
of a thorny rose cliff, hummingbirds
surrounded us like crop circles.
It was in that moment, me taking a seat
adjacent to a butterfly on a daisy,
that indebtedness gripped my shirt collar
across the dining room table, saliva foaming
at the corners of its mouth, and slapped
me across the face. Cheeks burning, eyes
welling, I recognized the purity,
I recognized the sublime.
Everything I faced was part
of a divine process that no man could ever
effectuate. The gulf that could swallow
me whole with one slip, one tumble,
was designed by water, shaped
by the sandy wind. Without me or him,
it would flourish,
the vines would climb so high that not
even an angel could bring them down.
On the drive home, in his passenger
seat, all I could envision was green:
the specks in his eyes, a singular
leaf on an elm tree, the feeling
you get when you think too hard
and too long about being manmade.
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 10:53 PM UTC
Please don't ask me any questions.
I will not be honest.
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 7:09 PM UTC
A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more
than you love me?
The beloved replied,
I have died to myself
and I live for you.
I’ve disappeared from myself
and my attributes.
I am present only for you.
I have forgotten all my learning,
but from knowing you
I have become a scholar.
I have lost all my strength,
but from your power
I am able.
If I love myself
I love you.
If I love you
I love myself.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 1:02 PM UTC
summer
is only a
whisper
away
I can
feel the
honeybees
on my
tongue
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 12:52 PM UTC
your mother remembers the
day you fell from the sky
"my shooting star," she said
but she always knew you would burn yourself out
your skeleton is the kind
that leave archaeologists begging for
more
remember to dust off your ribcage
every now and then
polish it with kindness
and let them rest
your heart is tired
of being bruised
it is worn
it is messy
hang your heaviness on the coat rack
leave your map in the passenger seat
and bury your sorrow in the garden
home is not another person
it is within you
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 12:11 AM UTC
you are a bonfire
a haunting flame
licking your own wounds
burning yourself out
you are a paradox
tough as nails
but
weaker than words
you tell yourself
its okay
to barricade your diaphragm
like your ribs aren't doing their job
im here to tell you
we are on your side
we lay in the grave next to you
dying to live
this winter
remember to kiss your scars
like they're your long, lost imaginary friends
but they're very real
(don't forget that)
im here to tell you
there has never been a better time
for healing
the air is heavy
and so is your heart
the world is not your enemy
that's you
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 11:57 PM UTC
"it's all about character," i said
"like cartoons?" you asked
but that's not what i meant
i mean the way you panic before a test and take baths when you're sad and say you're going to do something but you don't.
you never do.
promises are empty and so is
the chamber where i keep my sanity
so i make my own characters:
these
right now
strumming words and
lacing sentences with
passion and complexity
because simplicity is overrated
i crave tangibility and this lined paper is about as close as i can get
my hands are numb
my wrists are sore
be the relief i need to get by
be the astronomer who connects these dots
and gives a name to the constellations
that mean nothing to most
(but i think they're beautiful even if they are burning out a billion miles away)
i just need some character
and you have plenty to go around
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
the body of a poem
my body on your bed
your body gently falling down
our bodies fine like thread
we intertwine like sentences
syllables fall like rain
these literary elements
help me fight away the pain
i hate the way this sounds
this format makes me itch
im writing this for you
to help you climb out of the ditch
it's so muddy
it's so deep
it's made for eternal sleep
it's not for you
it's not for me
it's for dreaming endlessly
trust me,
that's not as great as it sounds.
eventually you'll be lost,
in your thoughts you'll start to drown.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 12:13 AM UTC
The rear view mirror
Landed in my lap
Where you used to rest your head
And say you weren't sure which way was up
I told you to follow the stars
And you laughed in my face
But I wasn't joking
So I rolled my eyes
Until I couldn't stop
And they got stuck like that forever
It's a shame because you always said my eyes were the second prettiest thing about me
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 11:49 PM UTC
There's a boy
(isn't there always?)
with eyes so deep
that I couldn't tell you how many galaxies
I've counted when he looks at me.
He tells me about the suicide note in the bottom drawer.
Whispering about not belonging in this world is our ***** talk,
and I kiss his words before they
shatter on the floorboards like
the Sunday I drove too fast around the corner.
I have whiplash from both.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 10:10 PM UTC