I type as I live,
from word to word,
bouncing from the walls
of my brain,
as I try to find another image
of beauty or love,

I type as I live,
in a desperate frenzy
with nicotine and coffee stains,

I type as I live,
because I have no choice, no say, no control
in this

Like the moon and stars

we belong to the night

we do not quiver
when darkness falls

for our hearts and eyes

belong to the midnight sky

scars are stories
with next chapters

they are not
the final lines

they do not mean
you’ve reached
the end of the book

the promises
were too high
the cost of failing
to meet them
will show
in due time

a man without a gun
can still ****

with a word or without
an unsaid goodbye

to plunge a knife into a chest
pierces a heart and leaves it bleeding

a pool of crimson settling around
his feet

he will move away
when it gets too close to his toes

repulsed, not by his act
but by his lover's final offering

that means nothing to him

bloodsucker
night terror
ghosts that haunt the sheets
I sleep under

black heart
bleeding ink
desperate to write, but the words
won’t cut loose from my throat

black cloud
black dog
biting
teeth bared, ready to taste blood

I sink deeper into misery
looking for a hand
to pull me out of this ocean
of despair

on reflection
this year has held more grief than joy
but grief and joy and be held
in the same palm of your hand
and blossom into a new bloom of hope
it’s okay if all you did was survive
next year will be your year
to thrive