a doctors breath can mean a thousand words
i felt myself exhale and proud,
i think i sold it well
well…

the ending’s never easy as the lies we tell

a diagnosis
fictional british soccer team
i thought it would help
but my teeth don’t feel clean
left on the lamp in the bedroom
swept everything except
what needed to be swept up

it is like a fistful of barbed wire
to pull myself out of lava

glass on glass
shattered saturdays
past of gladly laying
on the couch, watching football

sold all of my ****
at least in my head i did.
i want nothing to do with it
cause all of it feels like you

i’ll play make believe
at a pawn shop on university
i feel like the slate is clean
and now i don’t know what to do

layers of lapping ocean
papier-mache mask elapsing
insecurities, the ****** scenes
the dark and dirt and gritty ****

foundation giving away
i am surrounded by dirt
falling helplessly grasping
reaching out for roots
and getting nothing in return
but worms and soot.
sometimes the ground we stand on
would rather swallow every foot

speak to me in a tone
blanket me in the concept
of not being alone
supposed to be in love
it feels like that except
the trust and comfort and other stuff
that makes love…well love

i thought i would miss you more
finding peace in realizing my independence
left foot still trips on the steps but it’s wet
so i like to pretend it’s coincidence

my timing is always wrong
i belong
to a select percentage
of men who consented
to a whole life tormented
by you

breathing even feels distant now
a smog of hissing remembrances of incidents
i wore a fools hat and pranced and danced
and pretended it was happen stance
a lack of loving anything for so long
became the reason i could not love at all

i am wrong
more often than not
tying cherry stems
as the seeds slide
back in my throat

we walked through smog
and fields of unfamiliar flora
and something similar to rice
the judgement of korean farmers
failed to pierce the pure happiness
possessed in every tiny step you made
five fingers grasped firmly around one
and a cup full of cheerios

cosmetics written on her hieroglyphic lips
whispering, i’m no stranger to danger
always knew she wasn’t new to bad news
patchwork quilt of sunday comics

i miss the days before the flood
when jokes were funny
when pockets held money
when mornings were sunny
instead of nose runny
tears corroding cheeks
deep canyons out of creeks
resentment when we speak
impaled on mountain peaks
stress is a disease
i miss the day we find a vaccine

i wanted love
and received something similar

i believed in what?
a girl who only wore sweatshirts

she spoke of the dreams she had
and none of them felt like my tee shirt
pullover, zip up or button down
now the clown that frowns is me
painting in watercolor never felt so painful

smelling glass with a fist full
of metal memories so heavy
and dense dropping segments
creates dents in the floorboards
message sent but what do i repent for?

you asked if i had a window
i do but it only opens at the top
so people don’t jump out of it

the least appropriate
cornucopia of emotion
smothered in gestures
less love than lust
and gusts of envious
rust shaken off these robot bones
i guess it’s not for everyone

gone but not forgotten
a sentiment often lost upon
me for being too cheesy
imagine me, she sees something
i can’t


mirrors lie and every once in a while
you find an avocado that’s not rotten

from the womb
the love you exude
similar to seeking
warmth from the moon

split lip
chapped like cracked pavement
seeped blood over statements
like a pact. in fact, the same cave
in which we saved the game
a new chapter
the last page stained

splintered bone marrow
broken, brittle and for a minute
felt something akin to happiness
maybe pain’s what’s been missing
kissing curbs with flintstone lipstick

Our love
is the dry sighs at dry jokes
at a high five at five in the morning
lacing dreams and subconscious snoring
no more exploring the subtle scores
if i’m boring, you’re boring
found a little soft sound brown couch cushion.

i have yet to decide
my favorite vice
they all taste like the same spices

warm red seeping through my eyelids
while blue skies wed the cloud’s soft white beds
a sleepy breeze whispering behind the shed
lifting the frozen winters head to force him
to peak and see the tread marks of summer
searing their words into subtle spring smells
the new season thaws the thoughts
that felt like frozen hell.

it’s the discomfort
in the comfort drenched in sweat
i find so relaxing

hey
man
relax
he said

the
cops
are on their way

pay
the
fine
i try to comply

but end up in the newspaper instead

dust sprinkled donuts
i remember you from high school
she whispered behind a curtain
made of lace and laced with liquorice
wicked little sentiments
i dropped the keys like a mile back

i believed in seeing candles
i paused to hear your breathing
flames that faint and flicker that way
don’t have the heart to burn through ceilings

distance, lost among the pages
two different people
two different places
left behind, dog eared fragments
sometimes i think it’s ok
to judge a street by its pavement

a foreign feeling
a stranger lurking
myself in my own skin
my own evil smirking

i felt my legs cemented
in denim, drenched in sweat
vaulting fences in defense
of getting sentenced.

privileged to lay against a bed
when all is said and done
we lay with white linen
reminiscing on the battles won
while darker skinneded children
live in fear for things they haven’t done
privilege.

i sneezed and my eyes watered
and it felt good because it was the closest i could get to crying despite the demons hiding and flying and the dark clouds colliding
thunderstorms with no chance of precipitation
i want to cry but can’t for the life of me
the faster i run the thinner the air becomes
it’s so hard to breathe and everyday i feel less like myself, a shell and everything i hate is the pearl inside being pressed and designed with hopes that one day it’ll be worth something
i’m jealous of the night sky because even in its darkness, even behind its clouds there’s still stars that shine

tingling toes tell the tales of my woes
so self aware with my laser set to stun
i’ve always known, it’s just the way it goes
under the gun and staring into the sun
i thought i won but i’m the first one drunk
on spider webs weaved and spun
my mind as stagnate as the wind around the sun
my thoughts have begun to run on my *****
hunched over failure or lack there of
with nothing left inside my lungs

suffocating
love’s faded
waited days and days
placated misplaced rage
displaced into this place
ran out of disk space
to save the memories

like pencil lead on scratch paper
scratched that but a tad later i
stenciled dad or divine savior
pancreatic cancer for hard labor
****** barracks room and beatsaber
keep safe in states
united to sleep with cheap skates
carolina reaper states the heat flavor
all my dreams on a piece of paper
scratch paper..

all this time
and all i got

it’s all i am
not what you thought
but what you bought
not what you sought
distraught.

i was meant to be something else entirely
but i forgot.

boxer briefs



not boxers
not briefs
barely reached
the space for *****
call of duty
winnie pooh
oversized stained gray tee
shirt from an old team
maybe even summer league
half pint
ice cream
ben
and
jerry
and an entire bottle of irish whiskey

would it be sincere
this endearing
persevering
list of words
when no ones hearing

catching breath
just beneath the crest
of a sweater vest
better words i’ve said
are always left unsaid

they will only bring you pain
they will only leave me sane
they are always left to rest
unsaid and feelings still remain

talking to a wall
because the windows would be appalled

my only solid words
sketched off stencils
when my speech is slurred
whiskey wicked wisdom
stupidly obscured
my favored company’s absurd
lips like lemonade and pure