You can taste
the psychosis on my
lips but there's no
guarantee that I will feel it.
There's an umbilical chord
holding me down to ***** reality
and depending on my
perspective
it either looks like a
dog leash or a
noose.

Inject a sedative with a rusty
needle at the end of my
nervous system. I'm immune; there's
misery mixed in with my
white blood cells that swallows
all sense of introspection. When my
soul plummets down like an anchor
and the floating stops
feeling safe, I welcome the chest
pains with open arms. The pins and
needles in my lungs are better
than burning them.

Look through my eyes
and sometimes nothing is real.
Live through my heart and
it hurts like hell when
I'm not drowning in air.
Think with my head and
either you will want to get out,
or it will kick you out.

She danced through wildflowers and wove lilac in and out of her long hair. She smelled of lavender and pine and she never went anywhere without a smile.

Dancing alone to the harmony of the wind and the beat of the rain hitting the ground softly she began to remember a better time.

A time before the hassle of growing up and before the sun stopped shining just a little to bright.
A time before she was afraid of sitting at home and just relaxing.

Remembering the smell of coffee and peppermint throughout her grandmothers home.
The idea that one day she would grow into someone she could respect and love.


She was strong and fierce but also slightly soft and simple.
She was wild and free but contained by walls of society she hasn't quite broken through yet.

Yet she continues dancing through wildflowers and spinning daisies around her finger tips.
She continues humming to the sound of the ocean and  falling in love with natures secrets.

She continues to grow into someone she can respect and love- finding her own the only way she knows how.

upon seeing the lining of the
sky, lies the dwindle
crimson sign...

i asked why such beauty
twinkles in blood.

I woke up an uncracked knuckle
Left the house late
Arrived early
My coffee shop closed
For good this time
The new tenants tried to sell me
On Reggae Dancercise
They explained they’d still have coffee,
A small conciliation.
I saw my sister, sat with her child
He ate cupcakes & distrusted me
For my gluten intolerance.
She is unimpressed with poetry
My sister, she falls for a Friday
I sit on a street in NoLita
It is wind-swept, as am I.
Wondering at this moment
When the next time I will
Touch hearts with another will be...
Not on this street
If today.

Found this older man
Sleeping in my bed…
I threw him out
And my day began.
He was pleased, I tied
His shoes: a small comfort.
He walked submissively,
Warmly greeting
His newfound life.