I am crowding
The latest
Page
On a Sunday night.

Write,
Take the stage,
Believe me,
I only perform every now and then.

And I like
Reading yours
More
Than I like re-reading mine again.

I am ready.
Sunday night
Don't be intimidated
Write your poetry.

these days, emptiness is beginning to look more like a poem that writes itself. the irony is it is everything i can't be and everything i am

i used to deny myself death
as i was learned inflicting it
  would send me to hell.

i guess it saved me

i still bathe in that wish.
counting as they slowly wilt away,
  my white pedals of ash.
   the reward of risking the whole flower.

Eyes are the window to the soul,

But what if,

You don't have one of those?

A soulmate would be great,
but at some point I'd settle
for someone who gets back to text messages