It's not that
I have troubles
with people
it's more that
I spend far too
much time
putting words
to made-up
fantastic landscapes
and scenarios
because I find
people so much
more interesting
when they're hiding
in the rain

I laid next
to you and the
window was open
allowing your breaths
to mix with the sound
of the endless crickets
and frogs out there
and in all the endless
white noise I felt myself
come apart and was left
adrift in the emptiness
of space and time
sinking through infinity
with not a care in the world
for you are my anchor.

last night
I dreamt
that I got into
a fistfight
with Copernicus
because
he wouldn't agree
with me that
the universe seems
to revolve around
your smile

leave, leave
won't you?
now that the air is getting
chilly again and the bite
of winter is coming hard
leave, leave
with the changing trees
as there is no space in this
cooled off utopia
for the bitter flames of
hated
you hold so near to your soul
in lieu
of an actual identity.

It's like a thunderstorm
hidden behind your
eyes
ready to strike
and send lightning
streaking across the subconscious
like branches and roots
of a poisoned vine
strangling what gardens
of joy used to grow there
leaving only bitter thorns
and the vague idea of
a beauty that has the potential
to exist where only blackened
skies roam

If God
is love
then I really
need to tell you
how intensely
I experience
God
when you're in
the room.

how often we
block the future
by scrambling to
pick up all of the stolen
seconds that we gave
to people we want only
to forget
all while we
are in a continuous
state of forgetting
that you can't un-live
moments
you can't un-****
somebody
and you can't
rewrite your own
string of moments
no matter how much
they make you
flinch

Your age is
but the number
of times you've traveled
around the sun
hurtling at
nineteen miles per second
endlessly through the expanding
void
so don't tell me
that there's nothing
interesting about you
fellow space traveler
don't tell me there is nothing
remarkable about crashing
through the universe
while sitting in your armchair
you are an astronaut
capable of searing
the stars
Do not float.
Fly.

Looking for patterns
in the blowing wind
and waiting for a sign
is a waste of time
for you are made of
star dust
and the wind is moved
only by you.

Instead of trying
to stigmatize
perhaps you should
prioritize
and realize that
everyone flinches from
pain and for some people
life hurts so ******* much
that flinching out of existence
seems to be the only option
and instead of trying
to minimize
perhaps you should be trying
to sympathize
and it doesn't matter
if nobody was there
for you during the
bad times
that you pretend didn't
happen
because withholding
your compassion from
those who need it most
is the worst sort of death
you can inflict
and there's no
justifying it.