I relapsed last night
As the knife met my skin
and introduced itself
Over and over again.

I'm disappointed with myself
I shouldn't harm my skin
I'm losing every battle
Because I refuse to win.

- N. Morin

Your silence is killing me,
Your held tounge is twisting the knife,
Your disapearence from my life untie the ties I have to it,

I am on my last legs,
My last stand,
I'm trying understand but I can't see,

I'm losing it and you know.

I saw that girl
That looks like you
The other day.

The one that was a freshman
When we were seniors.
The one who made me catch my breath
When I passed her in the hall.
Because I saw your face
In hers.

I would think
Always for a second
"Oh my god Alex!".
And remember that
It's not you.

I saw her last week
When I went out to dinner
With my parents.
And there you were
In my mind all night.

I'm telling you this
Because I never got to tell you
While you were still here
That you and I
Had much more in common
Than I ever thought.

I felt that pain too,
Yanno the kind of
Nausea and heartache
Of having your sense of self
Burned to ashes
In a few minutes.

I wish I could have
Told you
That I was in pain too
And that if we could
Hold on for one day at a time
We'll be okay

Two years tomorrow,
Alex.
God knows we all wish
We could have saved you,
But I think you saved me.

The sun rose
Flickering on the pink flamingos
Being graceful
By the gold-glimmerish riverside
How has it become that,
My fantasies have become my days
I hope this happiness
Don't get washed away
by the waves

coffee and milk
sand and sea
night and stars
flowers and rain
you and i-
the perfect blend.

may i grow
so tall and bright,
so free and wild,
so brave and vibrant
that when you see me
standing
you think i am
a sunflower.

The friendly enemy,
  or enemy friend

What matters the difference,
  or need to pretend

Either stabbed in the front,
or knifed in the back

The wound just as fatal,
  in either attack

Blood given freely,
  or blood taken dark

Veins running empty,
  leading back to the heart

To face it undaunted,
  or preyed from the rear

Deaths twins will approach,
—on the tip of one spear

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

(Tr)aveling w(i)th the younger I
With her on your back
She gazed at intricate diamonds of the dark.
Never facing an ounce of (um)brage.

With age, her knowledge flourished
Growing from the water of your trunk
Her brain was nourished with ex(p)erience
Following in your trail

Strengthening over time
She (ha)d no i(nt)erest on your back
Nor the night sky
Rather clouds and the outside
Away sh(E) wa(l)ked from your shadow
With your trunk raised high

Lions and crocodiles swarmed her on s(e)a and land
With no trunk or tusk
Adrenaline rushed
She shook in nerves til dusk

Continuing days with no shade
Skin cells accepting harsh sun rays
With the storm of your stom(p)s
She awaited your presence
(h)yen(a)s laughed as you came
Splattering blood on your name

You laid with your wheel
As she wailed with no trunk
She wept
For you sculpted her i(nt)o who (s)he was

Long, Long down the road.
Buying from an old bookstore
Finding a binder filled with the Royal Animals

Turning the first sheet
She noticed a stamp
Reminding her of her stuffed friends
Triumphant  *Elephants