I just wanted to feel again,
I knew the properties of space,
Stayed within my borders
Held colors in my hands,
I know nothing,
I want to be held by the world,
But now I am silent
I’ll probably stay that way,
It is hard to express some feelings

My hands have folded into shadows of themselves,
My knees cracked under the weight,
I have dreamt of your face ,
Hidden behind the words that filled the pages,
Come to me in the night as I have dreamt of you,
For I am ready to be whole again.

We lost each other in December,
The snow covered the tracks we left,
In the spring our ribcages bloomed,
The flowers grew wild and plenty,
It's summer now and I miss your heat,
I hope you come when the leaves fall

I'm not even sure what I am writing anymore,
A poem? A warning? some fleeting memory?
Penning the things inside of me
that demand some sort of release

How I cried on my drive home
as the sky above me melted into
a finger painted sunset
The shades and shapes there for but a moment

The way I heard the words of woman tonight
That brought me to my knees
Stories that ripped at the fibers of my heart
Saying all the things I have
tried so desperately to put to page
In such an ease that left me reeling

The man who stands on his pedestal
crying out for the world to listen
Knowing he is nothing more but
background to those on their morning commute

The kiss of a young couple
shared along the seawall
I wonder if they could
taste the salt in the air
on each others lips

These are things I take for granted
These moments in between

Fifth and final, All written to you,
The keeper of these words,
Whatever this becomes,
Know that it is simple,
Understand that this is good,
One day I hope you’ll look back
on the memories and laugh

There is this thing
Some kind of shadow or cloud
It hangs behind me
Wraps around me as I sleep
This fog of a noose,
Wanting me to whither
Weep with willows
Cry myself rivers
I've been steadfast for years
Fighting off the best of me,
So that the little of my spine
Will one day sleep sound
And that this fear of defeat
Will flee from my chest

When the heavens open up
And the rivers sings loud,
I hope you make instruments of trees
Hold steady by my side darling
Take away these night aches
Swing your hips beside mine
Move your body to the light of the moon

Your body is an addiction
I crave your touch like a high
Find time to caress my veins
And make a grave of my insides

Woke up, 4:34 A.M,
cold sweat
drenched my t-shirt,
my heart was beating fast,
These sheets were made
for sleeping.

Not this.

What chained me to this?
When did I lose my freedom?
This stutter in my finger tips,
The shaking of my bones,
Every hour spent wondering,
When you’ll next return to me

I poured myself into vases
As if by doing so I could
Keep alive these fragile beautiful things

If there was an orchard in my lungs,
You left me with not a single breath of air ,
When you danced into the room,
I wondered from what garden did you bloom,
Something close to eden, holy treasure,
And I want to learn about your dreams,
What are your thoughts on the rain?
Do you love the ocean the same way I do,
What do you think of when you see the moon,
Forgot about december and July's burning sweat,
Didn't even know the sound of your name,
All the music in my arms couldn't do it justice,
But I held my tongue,
Took all the sunlight when you hurried home,
Still think about what could've been

I know that sunsets are the beginning of evening
I know that the night is some old romantic
I know the winter is the hardest for me
seeing all the life wither to a corpse
I know graveyards are just earthly beds
that burying bodies together makes it easier
for us to go through the afterlife instead of alone,
I know trumpets and saxophones still hold my heart
the warmth of their sounds melt away my fears,
I know that if I am to love I have to surrender
I know the boy in me is still struggling to become a man,
I know my heart is still heavy with you leaving
3 years now and counting, feels like the clocks stopped ticking
I know my mother is trying
I know my father is giving his best shot at remembrance
I know that there is still so much I’ve yet to learn
that everyday is to be made a lesson
I know I will continue to make amends
to build back the bridges i’ve burned
with all the timber left in my chest

The way you move to this autumn jazz,
All the seasons and the colors they bring,
How my brother is still a child,
I hope he never grows into the vices of age,
Christmas in Baltimore stops the killings,
December snow unstained by the bleedings
The summer nights with you in my arms,
All the poems that I found paradise in,
And every moment that gave me the courage to write it down,

These words will never cease,
Repetition of the syllables,
Over and over and over again,
They flood the notebooks,
bleeding their way from my pen,
Singing their notes in between breaths,
Their taste as they roll off the tongue,
All of the confessions, These sensational sins,
Oh how they broke me,
These words of mine

My god she's got angels in her throat
Every word sounds like a melody
She could read me tax reports and
I would mistake them for love songs
How can I compare my notes to yours?
How did you steal the ocean from my gaze
What love is this that has its own orchestra
One that wakes the trees in the morning
And whispers lullabies when I dream

Open chested memories,
Tell the stories on my skin,
Grace shivers with the visions,
Of ivy cigarettes and inhaled nothings,
Childlike reminders to the gut punch morals,
Nightmare laced twilights,
With too many names caught in the sweat,
Stuck with a golden heat,
And a wild set of veins

When you take the hot iron of morning
And rub it along those fences between us
The trees dip down their branches
To listen a little bit more clearly.
I know that the notes you pick from
That wooden box of yours knows
All the hurt in the audience
But when you sang the blues
I looked for all the heartbreak I had
Gathered inside my chest
And let their broken pieces flutter
Away like some kind of winged messenger,
All the way to the ceiling of that room
You made into Harlem just for a night.

In this port,
     Our hearts
         have hurried
                 on home,
dancing atop
        the tides,
          My heart flutters
                   with the sails,
Hoping that one
         day your heart
            hurries on back to me

When september comes
I'll remember when you were here,
Before all the bouquets and tombstones,
The house on the hill,
Asleep in the backseat,
Watching street lamps on quiet corners,
Waiting to knock on your door,
when september comes,
I'll visit your earthly bed,
Remember all the different reasons,
Why we wished you stayed

She is a library,
I say this because it is hard
to compare her to anything else,
Inside her walls lies story after story,
Knowledge that is wise far beyond her years,
She is a beauty,
one that will belong to no one but her own,
Sometimes she will lend me parts of herself,
Books I will treat as such,
which if anything is not my own,
I will hold her spine dear,
Careful not to damage the pages
Drink her words, let them sit in the pit of stomach,
She will call back for the borrowed parts
These temporary treasures,
I will carry close to my chest
And cherish every word

Let me throw my fists to break them
shatter my bones, leave me in pieces/
rip out my heart strings/
use them for your own instruments/
All my thoughts are sentences
and i am tired of the poetry/
I cannot think with it playing in my head,
over and over like a scratched record/
My veins are dry,
and I have nothing left to fill them with/

I lie
I cheat
I steal
I take
I give
I want
I need
I love
I hate
I ****
I remember
I forget
I forgive