Karla told me to give up art.
You really aren't very good at it, she said,
And suggested I take up drinking full time, instead.

At least with a beer in your hand,
You project a sense of purpose, she said
Even if it's only to empty the glass.

But your poems ramble on forever,
Your short stories always stop in the middle,
Maybe you should combine the two, she suggested
And blew her cigar smoke down the front of my sweater.

We will call them stoems she said and laughed,
And challenged me to a push up contest,
Right there on the dance floor.

I declined, she knew I would,
Then let's dance with our backs to each other, she said,
And defend this art of yours, silly puzzles no one can comprehend.

i touched your soul
and scribbled my name on it
love, you’ll never get lost again

It is okay to hurt
It is okay to fall
like a pile of ashes
to the ground

but my dear

in the morning
you must rise
you must open
your walls again

you must never
give up on you
and above all else
you must remember

it doesn't have to be tomorrow
not even the day after
or the next after that

and you must remember
that these things
take time

it is okay to
open up to people
right away
it is okay
to be cautious
since you have
known this hurt before

but don't let that
stop you from
living beautifully

and it is okay
to fall in love
with hands that are
no longer his

but don't let that
make you afraid
to give your all

and it is okay
for these things
to take time..

your ruins
may leave you
feeling empty

but my dear

there is so much
life left in that
Colosseum crumble
he left abandoned

rebuilding will come
but please remember

           -Rome wasn't built in a day

Unravel me with words unspoken
Because I know the only way
You’ll take me is naked.

Overlook a thousand
Different ways I’d change your mind.

And I’ll keep drafting all of the endings
That might be.

And you’ll keep using me.

Because you know I am the only
Thing I have left to give.

Empty of words to plead,
My body can scream:

“I’ll still love you.
Not even a little less.”