i'm in the back of your car with your friends
i've watched your movie for the third time now
i text you that I miss you
although the last thing you want on your mind
is how to reply
to a girl of my kind
who you've avoided for this long
to say that you love me
to promise you'll see me
to never follow through
i text you that I miss you

succession in the act
one cannot be afraid
of making theirself a fool
cannot remain of ownself
strip and despoil of worry
my strongest desire to be a fool
shameless in integrity and condemnation
grasp the pure abyss
and be everything other

death's arms around me
as if they've always been
they cradled me
in my childhood bedroom
the warmth I recognize still
they slow my pulse and calm me
they lull me
to my home, the empty

I reveal myself and I am lesser
I will never
be loved
by the likes of them

a child approached me the other day
and said
"I just want someone to hold me"
this child
who didn't know me at all
who trusted too much and too fast
began to pour onto me their every sorrow
told me stories of the people who were hurting them
told me stories of their family
and the people they like
and the people they'd like to kiss
and I
was paralyzed
I wanted to say,
"You can't say these things to strangers,
You need to be careful,
You need to keep these things to yourself"
but instead,
I heard their words and I heard myself
at that age
crying out the same words
the same pleas
to strangers the same as I
and I saw an opportunity
to breach time
and talk to myself again
to save myself by
saving this child
I said
"I understand, and that's terrible
and I am so sorry that those people are hurting you
and I promise you it is not your fault
and I promise you it will get better
and I am here for you if you need to talk,
or to vent
and I am here
and I promise you
and I promise."

I know that I'm not dangerous
but still I
don't want this child to believe it's okay
to talk to anyone like this
so I
try to fulfill these wishes
try to help this person
without encouraging that behavior
even though I know
because I Was Them
that it will do nothing
to end the desperation
and the loneliness
that they will try
again and again
from one to another
and another
to fill that aching void that only wishes to be seen by someone
or
to be held

It is dangerous, to be so young and need to be held.

I feel so old, being for the first time on the receiving end of such an encounter.
It makes my blood boil
to think of the others
who've taken advantage of such

I have to
help them
before someone else
hurts them further

even though it is tricky

if I can help, at least one person

maybe I can be helped

that long ago

child

could be helped

& after six years
put the same people
in the same room
and nothing will have changed
you reenter
and all of that growth is gone
for a moment, all progression
dissipated
by their presence alone

the moon is gone
and the crescent my fantasy
for so long, never seeing you
the time has finally come
for me to have forgotten your face
when night is risen and moon is full
i imagine you there
your soft, beautiful face
gorgeously round and pointed and soft
the arch of your brow
and your wailing eyes
digging so deep into my own
that in my reflection yours are buried
formed from little craters and debris
historically indifferent
they must be your eyes
i was crying the last time i looked at you
you staring at me, indifferent, remorseful
i am crying now, looking at the moon
it must be you up there
eight months and twelve days
june twenty-eighth
july nineteenth
i hate that i can't remember your face
and i mourn you still
just by looking up
to that same moon
i fear the day that i might see you again
that i may be reminded of your gentleness
that i may hear the nectar of your voice
i can never stop myself from you
can never hold back from admiring you
in my entirety, you, the moon
my only beacon, beloved anchor
but the moon is gone
and the crescent only my fantasy

"you can tell me anything"
you want me to
confess to
the wrong crimes

god do i think i love her
lord do i want to hold her
feel everything that makes her so bold
striking and evil and red
where now she is so keenly radiating
a powerful and tiny joy
before she was so sharp
so dark
years crawl beneath primeval distances
still her scent remains prominent
i was eleven years old when i first saw her
a flower in her hair, a buttoned blouse
i sketched her every day
enigmatic attire
she adored
two years pass and i am in her basement
2am, face painted white and red
we watch Moulin Rouge
and we talk of moons and suns
and in the morning i use her shower
for the day, i would have her scent

she is deeply gone and will i remember
her gracious form
and flirtatious laughter
her glasses and her tap shoes
and her will
a girl who outreaches her own arms
she is soaring today
mythological in word
in her voice
in her skin
in her black nail polish and biker rings
in everything
that everyone hated her for doing

in her

prevalence in the absence of light
I seek a remedy that may live without the sun
for the sun may never come
and I may never leave
if this journey I will to embark
moves in beams
and stalls for wake

panic sits in my chest
and waits for privacy
everyday i can feel
myself erasing
i want to live without tears
permanently resting in my eyes
watching for that moment when
all else turn away
waiting to be unseen
until then it bottles up
until then i swallow

I've decided to renounce the world
Build a walking house
And eat enchanted bacon

I'm either dead
or in fear
the inbetween is nice
but still there are sides to the spectrum

please please please
don't comment on my poetry
with a quote from the bible

I should have died
a long time ago

halo, halo
flooded by musky greens
that wipe out the bitterness
to your taste
hands tight on my waste
and lifting me
to sit on a shredded pillow
the window open
the walls damp
the chill once again comforts me
embracing an icy touch
you cut my hair
a head of bleach falls to the floor
my black roots remain
fragile breaths come from the trees
awakening once more
creeping their branches into the room
creeping under my tunic
the sky clears and I am soft
the pillow empties of its feathers
removing the inside
releasing the weight

Weep me into an orbit
secure my warmth into it
Elevated, tremble me still
Lifting my legs into the air
And completely releasing the ground
Most comforting coldness
Welcomes me to a void
An inter-clashing of hollow and heart
I see nothing before me
I feel nothing beneath me
Moving only relatively to you
But the air between us bends
My bones feel crisp
When energy evolves into matter
Experiencing, for the first time,
Negative space
Seeing what nothingness lies before me
The acceptance
Ensuring calamity’s deference
I’ll be there
May I be still but I am moving
You see me here
Mightful in collision and clamour
Which rings so silently
That my breathing sounds greater
I long to be there
To dissipate into light
Become a pull in the tide
Warp everything inside
Regenerating my new birth
Fulfilled by the presence of lacuna

I need to stop writing
poetry about boys

.                   knowing you made me human
losing you doesn't mean i can't be

release our tensions
and dispel of this worry
after all that we've been through
your words and my words
my hurt and your guilt
to reconcile our hands
and disprove every doubt
i lend you my hand
joyful and beautiful and miserable man
you're confused and i'm tired
i'm confused and you're tired
however many times it comes back
to you, to me
let's try this again

if the days just keep on coming like this i might just have to actually give up 🤟

youth in dying
heaving through childed lungs
to drink is to release in the barren
the tide of the moon's seed
depart of my planting
and live radiating the being
i see her there,
my love, my love
i am guided across our departure
my moon, my moon
the very first sight of my possessed infantry
infatuated with illuminated isolation
loneliness
i felt it in you,
feel it in me
deceitful boldness to candy the night
i am obsessed
**** the light from the sun
and pour unto me
every of your unhinged desires

Feet don’t fail me now
She sings and sings and sings
Belting in the backyard
Humid and sweet and exciting
Skyborn burns that fill me with orange and blue
Sun-bleached skin in darkened strings
Of deep and burdening things
Mediating the cracks in the sidewalk
Burying the butterfly i once called “Vernus”
Rays of light and every bit of dust
Eyes wide and the noises loud
Small and running
Heated stoves ring me home
Before dark, i am alone
Me and the world
I feel the possibility in my fingertips
I witness myself again and again
I can feel
I am aware
Of what i am not, of who i will be
Infuriation and envy
I hold everything within and I let it release
Leaping across the streets in wedges
Power seeps into my heels
My beating heart shakes me
Into my bedroom window
Into the moon
Into my backyard
I left it there

isolation and aroma
our tent was crowded and friendly
fires in the early morning
that never seemed to give out
phone died a week ago
and for once i am living
i jumped a cliff and got lost in the forest below it
i was bruised and cold but the music was loud
and their dancing brought me home
drunk singing and emphatic fiddling
i saw what the spirit meant
mine is still there
i haven't felt in a while

If I can sing
however that may be
my soul as a poem
will never end
I will never die
for performance
is my eternal thread
when the conscience
descends into a string
the ring will still be there

near midnight, hello again
I’ll be in no one’s company tonight

forcing myself to accept
that this is all there is
and then its nothing

i’ve lived for so long already
feels like i’m already dead

no one will ever find me
no one will ever know me
no one will ever see the sadness & stay
no one will ever find me
no one will ever hold me
or tell me I’m alive when I think that I’m dead
no eyes that are watching
no ears that are listening
no one will ever see me
no one might ever hear me
they leave me a puzzle unsolved
it’s not that I’m tricky
just not what they’re used to
but with me, they believe,
their efforts will be wasted
all I need is one person
and a person, I need

i've made it, i've made it
and i've still yet to see it for myself

its 71 degrees and mostly sunny in new york
which is 4 degrees warmer
than where you are

im not supposed
to be here

there's a head in every window
peaking through the blinds
and there's a man on every street
to follow you at night

there's a chip in your computer
and a dagger in your heart
and they're working side by side
to drag the guts into your art

every day I change the street I walk
every day I change town

but there are always tinted windows

and they are always slowing down

the mushroom council has deliberated
i think they think
its time to take me

drawn to my sister planet
we tear out our hairs
the fiery sorts of dissent
into the depths of my apathy
climactic orbit in yearning
pushed against your clamour
i long to be obliterated
dispel this feeling of unfeeling
remove me

Season melting into my arms
My sentimentality is not a product of my hope
which still prevails
though the weather ties me back
The cold of the backstage walls
brings me comfort
connects me to a memory
subito!
It becomes glorious to remember.
a present wind is pleasant
so long as it doesn't sting
But to feel the waves of matter
slipping through the creases
soothing the cracks of old troubles
It is everything to breathe

what is my pain
to another’s love
not that it was meant for me
but i like to peer upon it
from outside
why does their love
amplify the hurt
why do i envy
their comfort

finding solace in thinking
that death comes in multiple stages
rather than an instantaneous there-then-not
to live is within our own conscience
and who's to say that we do not live elsewhere
to be a string in another memory
that is my only life after death