when i say i am tired
i am tired of explaining why my head is so full of thoughts that eat my heart from the inside out

when i say i am tired
i am tired of you asking me to just "snap out of it", i am dying on the inside and i do not know how else i can phrase it for you to understand

when i say i am tired
i am tired of the nightmares that make me feel like i have not slept at all, i am tired for screaming for help inside my head

when i say i am tired
i am tired of trying to fight a battle that i will never win, maybe this is how it all ends

when i say i am tired,
do not keep asking. just hold me and tell me i will be alright
when i do not believe you,
let me go.

It was the first time I had fallen in love on a Tuesday
The crimson skies played tongue hockey
with cumulus clouds that begged so heavily
to be carried into the night

It was a feeling that produced so much awe
that it was necessary
for it to dissipate
within the blink of an eye

I never got your name
that doesn't matter
Bees know not the name of nectar
just that they need it to live

It was raining when you left me
each drop fighting to hit the ground first
in some cosmic sign
that maybe the destination meant more than the journey

Sometimes I feel
the only one that wants me to stop and smell a rose
is my nose
everyone else is content to let me pass by

I'd never stopped to speak to the old lady
at the end of the street
but I did today
and I'm glad I did

Because her eyes showed me
that below her face-scarf a smile hid
It's not always superman that saves someone's world
but who would watch that movie?

My mind is stuck on an endless loop
of play then stop then rewind
I tend to linger on one moment
although I'm not sure why... perhaps it's because


           It was the first time I had fallen in love on a Tuesday

you will be able to say
once in a while
during the brief
jaunts in our underwear
the glimpses of green lace
under a white cotton shirt
that moved across my shoulders
on the hardwood floors, our heels
stomp and slide, and my thighs
quiver under weight and laughter
you caught me and I turned
turn to hold your neck


but I pause to bring you close
to hold you, as if you were
a vase of baby's breath and ferns
to look you over and wonder how
one moment I was sitting here writing
this on the couch on a september evening
and how you are here now,
with a strange familiarity
and the watch on your wrist
softly clicks forward
but I can hear it from
inside the glass, atop the second hand
sweeping over the ticked surface
reflecting the sweet blue daylight,
the warmth of your body and
the gentle harmony of two people
who have found eachother.

I want to listen to music all by myself
I want to feel its meaning
And cry
I want to dance in the middle of my work
Even when there's no music
Even when everyone is staring
And shout
I don't want to be somewhere else
Someone else
I want to be me just me
Doing what I want to
And not what I should
Or told to
And smile
I don't want to fly
I don't want people to look up to me
Rely on me expect from me
I want to run walk stumble and fall
Get up and laugh at me
and walk again
And satisfied.

I was teetering on the precipice
of something.
edging towards the glimmer.
mashing tongues,
you tore me limb from limb.
I'm glazed with sweat.
you baste me in honeydew.

in the bedroom we speak in vowels:
oooOOHHhhooo
uUUHhh.
AAAAaaahhh
The sounds of death,
Long awaited for.
I died like this every night and loved every minute of it, bruised down to my bones.
i i i, want moremoremore.
Give my teeth a whitening.

You are the eye of the storm
the first leg into a pair of pants
the bone with the best sense of humor.

you left me high,
but not dry.

accept this broken french as a gesture of my affinity:
je taime
tu me manques
je tadore mon lapin
bisou bisou