I want to be the
fallen eyelash on your cheek
carefully collected
coveted for a wish
or two
or three
I want to be the tree above your
head
and the roots below
I want to be everything
and so much more

however I do not want to be your cage
or your basket of broken eggs
I do not wish to be
your scratched records
to be replayed
I want your freedom as
you want mine

I just want to be the fallen eyelash
on your cheek.

Looking for
God
Somewhere between
A love letter lost
In a landfill
And hitting
A hundred
Miles an hour
On the highway

"Why? Why do you love me so much? Why won't you just let me go?" She stared at me while wiping away her tears. I couldn't tell if she was frustrated because she was crying or if she was frustrated at me. It seemed silly to get mad at someone for loving you, but there was a fifty-fifty chance that it was happening right now.

I reached out my hand lead by the extended tip of my index, driving away the tears beading around her eyes so she could see me clearly when I said, "one day I'm going to die, and I'm going to hate myself for that because I'll no longer be able to love you. So I love you with the unrelenting fervor I bring because if I had it my way, I would never have to stop."

you tell me
that we should
take things
slow
and I hope slow
is sweet like
how your words trickle
out of your mouth

I hope it's
lasting like
the smell of smoke
on your jacket at 3 am

and I hope
it's honest like
how it feels
legs tangled up in each other
and I'm awake counting shadows
on your ceiling

thinking that I've heard
of slow before
but it didn't quite feel
anything like you.

It has been one year
since my last haiku; one more
year spent trapped in skin.

Lately when I drink
I drink at bars two miles
Away from my house
Four shots of whiskey and
I usually get sad and I
Walk home
And the other night
I did that
And caught wind
That was missing
Someone

I began to stumble
My way home
I usually try to look mean
And unapproachable
But still I hear
A "hey baby"
******* can't
See I'm crying
And I turn around
On fire and tell him
To *******
He tells me it's thanksgiving as if
That means ****
To me
And I barrel home
Thinking he doesn't
Know that I am
Just starting to notice
All the cracks in
The pavement
And the empty spaces
Where the honey combed
Brick used to lay
And I'm wishing
I hadn't felt so
Strange toward you

i don't want to be
your inbetween
but i don't mind
staying in between
your sheets
skinny
loveless
laying in
spoon fed
lover's lies

i don't want to be
your inbetween
but i don't mind
keeping your company
on cool nights
cold lights
i don't want to be
your transitioning
queen

and just because
you don't want to
lose me
that doesn't mean
you get
to keep me