there is a void in
his shape within me — and there
are these spaces he
left wide open — places that
I have not learned to close yet

if you didn't sleep
last night, did today ever
turned to tomorrow

bridges look best when
you're in the water — best crossed
                             when with a lover

two sticks — you lit one
offered me your cig — wished you
meant        your bed             instead

we had that one old
photo that always reminds
me how I wanted
to have kids with you, and you
did have kids — just not with me

I'm always stealing
glances and end up getting
lost in your eyes, or
is it the ocean — to be
honest, what's the difference

my brain's a chem lab
and the chemist is asleep
— HELP THERE IS A FIRE!

YOU emanate GRACE
that to say — you're beautiful
would be           REDUNDANT

I might as well live
in my very own country
— PROCRASTINATION

they say, LIFE is a
                 PARTY! — maybe it is, and
                                     I'm an introvert

will the only time
I get rest — and peace — is when
I'm but grey ashes

what we see as change
when green summer leaves turn brown
is really just growth

W,

I kept thinking —
it'll be easier
if I get hit by a car

instead of going to work.

Love,
ML

even my own eyes
deny me of my own tears
— what else can't I have

I can't tell him
he's beautiful
— because then
       he'll know
         why
           he's beautiful
             to me

hey kid, listen — don't
leave the womb, don't open your
eyes — they'll make you cry

peal my layers off
eat me up and spit me out
plant me — I'm a seed

dough in the oven
and a lover with their past
— these things won't rise if
you keep opening it up
digging it, calling them out

I was a dreamer
you, a wanderer — you left
                 while I was asleep

I was up, writing
my ink — cold and raven like
                               rain at 2 am

up at 2 am
— chasing after something lost
like I'm losing time

living alone, I
thought the sea was a distant
dream — 'til I cried one

if you're looking for
CONSISTENT, search no more — I'm
                                  consistently tired

they only see the
tiredness in your eyes when they're
mad at you for it

ᴵ touch me
on my palm
like I'm a flower
you mean to open

ᴵᴵ touch me
between my fingers
like I'm a sea
you mean to part

ᴵᴵᴵ touch me
in my arm
like I'm a sheep
you mean to guide

ᴵⱽ touch me
on my shoulders
like I'm a wall
you mean to hold

ⱽ touch me
on the nape
like I'm cards
you mean to shuffle

ⱽᴵ touch me
on the side of my face
like I'm braille
you mean to read

ⱽᴵᴵ touch me
on the lips
like I'm cherries
you mean to pick

ⱽᴵᴵᴵ touch me
on my neck
like I'm a glass
you mean to drink

ᴵˣ touch me
on my chest
like I'm a drum
you mean to beat

ˣ touch me
like you mean it

if they find rest in
somebody else, does it mean
           it's you they're tired of

our love can take a
different shape, HISTORY —
the one we shared — won't

his LIPS — pressed to my
      nape — bear witness to    the SHAPE
                                        of my EXISTENCE

they say it's all in
my head — why do I feel it
in my LIMBS and CHEST

W,

I don't think I'll ever trust you with my heart again.

Love,
ML

treacherous are my
own thoughts — for they are daggers
I hold on the blade

the PARABLE of
the ALL-NIGHTER: "is sleep just . . ."

a SOCIAL CONSTRUCT

things I left unsaid
walks the plank that is my
tongue, but they won't jump
and now roam my mouth — ghosts with
a LIFE more DEAD than ALIVE

the earth was a wide
and blank canvas — now you're my
FAVORITE COLOR

the PARABLE of
the PLEASER:      "can you help with . . ."

YEAH
             SURE THING
                                       WHY NOT

fleeting orange sky
stop — before I sing sadly
through dark winter nights

keeping a secret
was a spark in my bare hands
'til it was  —  the SUN

we buy things with cash
to win people's hearts, kindness
is the ¢urrency

if you don't believe
in love at first sight then how
about now, baby

head on my chest, I
trace his curves with my fingers
like a book in ⠃⠗⠁⠊⠇⠇⠑‎

every time you get
your heart broken, gather the
pieces, collect each
tile — SHARP ENOUGH to CUT — and
make a beautiful mosaic

sleep came with a dream
heard a kid's laughter — wondered
was it mine, or my

does it keep you up
at night — waiting for the when
in WHEN I GROW UP . . .

I fall fast as if
a star from a dream, did you
see — the TRAIL of LIGHT

owning a pencil
must come with a sharpener
or skills, and a blade

remember, he who
turned the light on had to look
for it in the dark

I always liked storms
so I chased after you, and
danced under your rain

I'd like to take your
glasses off someday, and set
them on a table
then I'll lean forward, as slow
as the way
                        you
             stir
                        your
             cup