I don't have time to write you a poem.
I have to leave in 20 minutes and I
CANNOT
think of something clever
to say
in that space
of time.

I should cherish hugs more.
They come too frequently,
and leave too soon.
They are the farewells
of friends and lovers,
and life.
I could die any second,
and have missed
too many second hugs.
I love you
so much I don't
want to let you go
type of hugs.
Even the shallow, shy hugs
I'd miss. The nervous
quick, hard ones I should have
actually tried softer.
I say I will hug better next time,
but then I forget.
Next time arms are
around me too quickly,
or there is no next time.
The bottom of my throat
tells me there will be
more time.
When will I die without a hug?
Idk.
Better hold on to the last one
like it's my last.

I  l i k e
             p
                l
                 a
                  y
                   a   r  
                            o
        w o r d s      u
                          n
                       d.
                          l e s s
                          t a l e n t
                p u r e
   s o l i p s a r y.

Hookup culture
was raging drunk
but has since
calmed the **** down.
It's too easy.
We don't have time
to do easy things
anymore.

We woke.
Ants had invaded my kitchen.
We parted ways,
I mortified.
Then a genocide;
the queen drowned.
Her colony mourns
their loss.

I don't know
if any of these poems
make sense.
But I'm binging.
Call it soul food.

I thought when I moved
I would end up
in a place
where the gap
underneath the door
wasn't so big.
Now the light is streaming in.
I can't sleep again.