Crescent moon on a summer night
You remind me how beautiful
it is to smile

Maybe,
I keep telling myself,
If I keep writing
Perhaps
I can quiet
Just a fraction
Of the deafening
Raucous
In my head

Hello there, stranger.
Come for a little darkness, have you?
Trade me a cigarette,
and I'll dive into the depths of time
to conjure some horrors true,
Scars old and wounds anew

there are so many of you
that i would love to sit down with;
maybe over a milkshake and a plate of fries;
and just talk.
i want to ask you about the boy that hurt you,
about the anger you feel deep inside
over a father who said he’d come back...
and then didn’t.
i want to run with you through pages of words and say
“oh that’s right, what a lovely metaphor.”
i want to see all your smiling faces and
thank each and every one of you for showing me kindness,
for saving my life.
i want to collaborate on novels of poetry
and laugh with you through the tears of our pasts.
so until we sip those milkshakes and eat those fries...
thank you, to
some of the most beautiful people i have never met.

My thoughts are dark;

I saw people at night
I thought they might be dead

It's the living I'm scared of;

I hallucinate to the world of unknown,
The spring has succumbed to the night
Where the undead summons potions and rites;

I live in a dark box;

It floats in the Artic and i succumb to the snow

Naked self, shivered not
The boisterous cloth of human skin seemed to freeze

I blossom in a shelf where history latched to me

I sleep under a heap of hair,
I eat not by the fire
I sip cold tea.