It’s the hunger that drives the Wolf and I
out— all across the icy expanse of tundra.
We stop at the edge. Just for a moment.
One look into each other's eyes, both of us
knowing the other doesn’t taste very good.

And so it begins.

it took too long to realize-
the covers on us
cold walls and warm sheets,

soft light in your eyes
sweet nothings to discuss,
we'll share the spot where our hands meet.

i don't care if there's flies-
i'll never make a fuss.
let my heart stop its' incessant beat.

If you knew I was coming,
you should’ve run faster.

I’m using your gun
so you know that it works...

Bring the bad guy foreword!
I’ll always right behind

the sun flew down
just to hit my bare feet,

they stung from the cold
and the rocky beach.

i built a rock tower today.
on the edge of the lake,

and before i warmed up
the wind blew it down.

that same wind that blew hair from my face
and air deep into my lungs—

and i smiled.

it should never have been there
in the first place.

I wish I had the strength
to give all of it to you.

I yearn for the days
of me sighing at the spider
way up on the ceiling,
and you commending his skill.

“Look how high he got!” you’d say,
big old grin on your face, soft hair in my hands,
with kind eyes locked on the spiders’ hair
that dangled boldly from the ceiling.  

We’d play a game.
Armed with cup and blank paper,
evenly matched—
in the race to catch the beast.

I’d watch you win each race.
The satisfying sound of the cup slapping drywall,
it still rings in my ears.
How tenderly you’d speak goodbyes on our porch.

Where the hell is my goodbye.

Join me in the woods.
We will walk halfway to death,
then turn and drift back.

How is this “joy” question
the hardest to answer?
I could spit hundreds of verses,
and still read hundreds fancier.

I have no way to see joy—
besides the elusive glimpse.
Each night, under every moon,
the freedom of no job to do since
the long-gone high expectations vanished,
leaving my smiles drawn from circumstance.

Joy escapes me as a runaway train,
while you can find joy in things—
from which— I’ll politely abstain.

Apparently i’ve been good in the world.

My hair ties don’t snap,
the soles are still on my shoes,
and my belt still fits—

I’d say karma’s being kind to me today.

I can’t bear to watch
your coffin kiss the ground.  
I’m begging you, ring the bell—
please just make a sound

grey whips slash in circles
around where we stood,
face to face,

and when you reached up—
touched my cheek,
the tendrils stilled...

to see what all the commotion was about

I think a year ago
you borrowed a dollar from me.
You forgot to give it back...
I think?
I don’t really remember.

It’s funny,
the only two people
in the whole world
that would care—
and we don’t even remember

A mixture of ash and dust
floats down from ceiling.
From rusted chandelier to
stone.

He sits at the top
of a long hallway,
the tapestries guiding visitors to the
throne.

Greying sideburns, hand too weak
to do much as lift his key ring—
the keys that most define as a
sword.

He makes no eye contact
while you kneel on his dust,
more focused on how his wine is
poured.

Look upon your king
Despise if you must
He has overstayed his welcome

He lifts his head
Bones shuddering
Voice that makes any man feel his thirst

“Odiet dum metuant”

Don’t ask questions,
it’s not true—

Please don’t make me
lie to you.

as fascinating as the world is,
i need a moment to explore another.

no stress—
i have cats to feed,

i won’t be long...

you’ll sit there—
smoking your cigarette by the window,
blowing smoke out your lungs
that drifts back in through the window...

and as that icy chill sweeps
your dizzy body all over,
you put your cigarette out on a quarter
and use a dead plants *** as an ashtray.

look to the west
over your vast expanse of
unconquered dust
and weep the only water for miles

i shall pull you to me
by the sea in the east
with tendril that bounce
from my eyes to yours

as the string grows shorter
so does our patience
until we are one
drifting away on the dusk

I scribbled you love
the only way I knew how—
in verses and rhyme.

Found my handwriting
on discarded scrap paper...
didn’t even blink.

sometimes
putting on a ring
is a battle cry

Loving you has
become routine

I can’t break
routine, can I?

I don’t want this,
I just want to want something

To the blue clouds
rolling out of town,

I’m begging for
a last hurrah.

Always say hello
to the songbirds and honeybees;

You’ll never know when
they’ll say hello back.

Scarring yellow acid
lovely as can be—
dripping down my cheeks,
stinging my skin
and adhearing to all—

burning the tastebuds
that keep honing it in.
Yet those yellow cubes
that break apart like strings,
will forever be my most welcomed agony

You’ve left me
as empty as that pit,

why not
fill both up at once?

Efficient both in life
and death,

My mind
Spins
On an axis of my creation,

It twists,
So very fast,
With not a single nudge!

It whirls
In its circles
For no reason at all.

Pulling,
Pulling.
Pulling!
A string tied to its base

It weaves that string tighter,
Until there is no more string to weave
And my twirl must cease.

But end! End it shall not!
The string has broken,
and my mind has won at last!

Maybe the spin,
Ever growing in speed,
Can at last go in the right direction,

Before I fall off my axis
And tumble
Down
down
d o w n
d  o  w  n

sunlight dancing in,
doing pirouettes on my sill,
i leave her trails of sugar
and she dances on still!!

warmth sauntering through,
lounging on the floor
and darting up the stairs
desperate for something more.

a breeze trickling through—
her hair a soft plume
of cold silver and blue,
just to match the moon.

I only really get like that for things i genuinely care about—
I don’t care about poetry,

but i do care about you.

And a lot of other people.
So when i speak genuinely it comes off that way

Me,
Deep through
The brush
The leaves, dust, dirt—
Stains my breath.
The sweetness
Opening arms.
I let out a smile, my body
exhales as well.
Grounds, nature
Buried in
My bones made me
Run and be free,
As long as I wish.
Again
I will never be
So happy,
There with you
And still stuck
Imprisoned
I could never return I am
Free.

books—
filled with bookmarks,
always line the shelves
of a dusty house...

you were the one who
smiled at me from across the room
just to keep our secret.

you were the one who drove
and drove and drove endlessly just
to show me your favorite song.

you were the one who held my hand
under the blanket we shared
in a room full of people.

you were the one who got excited
when you thought that just maybe
i was excited too.

you were the one who held me as we woke
and would do things that
showed me you felt like yourself.

you were the one who showed a small bit
of who you really are
and left me scrambling for more—

and now you are the one who never calls,
the one who never looks,
and the one who never happened at all.

who are you to me?

as i stumbled home—
chill bouncing through my jacket,
it was nice to follow the moon
as something tangible.

nighttime phantoms of birds swoop low through the breeze,
greeting bats with sweet melodies and mingling in the trees.
not only do their songs tingle the ears of few,
but they are gone with the moon and the mid-morning dew.

drunkenly stumbling
down corridors,
slamming into knees
and train doors.

all with earbuds in—
disgusted looks on their face
as i grab the pole,
and move with haste!

i drop to a seat,
covered in dust
in the last car,
as the cables rust.

no light to be seen,
buried underground—
the traveler on the F train,
when clocks don’t make a sound.

Nobody ever told me,
that I don’t have to prove
my worth to stay alive.

Nobody ever told me
otherwise, either.

see it wasn’t hard—
the decision to rebel was easy.
i never thought i could chose free will,
and in the end i never did.

the decision to decide was no choice at all,
it was all i had left.
i don’t know freedom until it is ******
on me.

falling—
god it was easy.

So wonderful, so plush,
A warm like no other.
Wonder in your eyes,
Treat me as a mother.

I shook in the night,
A fear consumed me
But you laid on my chest
And grounded my minds’ flees.

I thought I felt hands
Grabbing my feet,
Silent tears hit my pillow
But you made me complete.

You thought You needed Me
You just wanted my hand.
Little did you know,
You did more than you could understand,

I stroked your back,
Buried my tears in your fur,
I felt your kind rubs
And was deafened by purrs.

I was still terrorized,
Still shaken to my core,
You built me a forcefield
While you just laid by me and snored.

my house likes to tease
and toss around shadows
but this is in no way
a resting place for the hallowed

My apologies can never
be as loud as they should,
apparently I must die
to show I’ll never be good.

Optimism, a fun game
for children and the bored.
I keep my goals tame,
while I shake in the cold.

Afternoon… night.
My goal only for life.
A future of delight,
good job and good wife

See, “I am no pessimist”,
that, while brushing a future away.
Forever claiming I’m a realist—
we know all good things never stay

Don’t get hopes high,  
and there you will never feel surprise

she winces
every time they kiss,
for fear of him...

being hurt

As Atlas rises above the world
He looks down
and kneels

As you enter the bottleneck
You give in to the flow
and yield

lay your vices out
on my lap,
we’ll look through them like
old photographs—

and in final moments
i let it slip,
i promise i’ve never
settled for companionship

Pour water on a table.
Watch it roll off the sides with ease,
confidently flowing in every
direction at once.

Spot the little droplet left,
there you’ll find the
collection of apathetics,
begging to, at last, evaporate.

as the red bird soared
lower over the valley--
i heard its lament.

it left a searing agony
that stirred a loyalty in me
i never knew i had.

lower your glass
and drink in solitude,
to a dormant, coiling hope.

I can’t feel my toes,
but you are asleep!
I could not move you
if I tried— I’m weak.