bathing in the light of the sun,
surrounded by the beauty of the world
by night i'm gazing at the stars
awash in the glow of the moon
and i love my little galaxy
this universe, created from fantasies,
existing solely for me
what god exists that made you all my reality
my sun, my world, my moon and stars
and the planets between, unique and
alive, so alive despite no signs
of yet loving life
if i were a god i'd make it so
that you all fell in love
with life and love and happiness
and they fell for you, too

battle call, don't you hear them scream?
i pledge allegiance to the left wing
devout my life so much so that i started training my left hand years ago

and i think there's something to be said
for the right wing bible belt battering freedom out of men
and that is
the religion you preach with your right hand of the father
is neither love nor hope nor reverence

right wing, right hands, alt-right
preach omnipotence in the name of benevolence
and show no compassion to anyone

so you'll excuse me if i tune out your preaching
in favour of that sacrilegious singing
how dare those lyrics write free love into the veins of children
am i right, or am i right?

no, i'm left

tell the ones who put you here how you've had enough
scream it to the skies, 'til your lungs burn and tears sting your eyes
in case the one they call goodness and love is real enough to listen
hold your heart up in both hands like it's your mission
you don't have to be mormon to spread your word like it's gospel
you've just gotta have faith in your method of communication
when you open up your mouth and a storm comes out
i hope the clouds churn and the rain falls and they feel the pain you've been dealt

we can put all hope to bed but hope has a funny habit of waking up again
and i can honestly say my life would lose so much quality
if you were to go to sleep and never open your eyes again
and quality of life is a measurement of longevity, a question:
is it worth it? can i survive this? can i live when the sun burns away the darkness?
you are the sun, my sun, you just don't see it yet
because who can get close enough to the sun without being blinded?
who could hold a mirror to the sun and let it see itself before the mirror melted?
you are the sun, my sun, even if you never see it, try to believe it

bless nighttime's slinking shadows
i look to you when i feel alone
you scare me and you keep me up
but at least you make me feel at home

you plagued me when i was thirteen
a schizophrenic possibility
puncture wounds and pale incisions
once a week at therapy

don't leave me now, can't you see
the way i wear you like eyeshadow
i've donned the bruises you leave on me
with pride and trembling fingers

five am in july brings yellow cloud
pale blue morning skies
i lie here on my dented ribs
with nightime's shadows under my eyes

in love, yes
with people, no

more inclined, i think
to fall for experiences

and animals and trees
and the taste of coffee in the morning

and the feel of accomplishment
after a long night spent writing

in love, i am
with maybe some people

no one personal,
two idols at most

in love, yes
with people, no

more inclined, i think
to fall for the sunset

and a relieving gust of breeze
on a humid day

and the art hung
on the walls of rustic cafes

in love, yes
with no one in particular

in love with life
even on days spent wishing for its end

a toxic sort of love, perhaps
perfectly suited for the likes of me

chemically imbalanced,
in brain and body

These days, I feel I've lost my spark
That flicker of creativity.
Well yes, I lit the candle;
I knew it was time for it to burn,
That eventually it'd burn out:
The dulling light emanating faint warmth.

But I think there's something poetic, too
About blunt truths
And being so honest it feels bland—
Bland enough to make you feel.

we made makeshift settlements in old, crumbling ruins
and we weren't homeless but we sure weren't home
so we sought out places as broken as we felt
with digital camera clicks and rough clearings of throat
(that hint of asbestos and ground-to-dust brickwork)
laying out soft blankets and forgetting they were too thin:
gravel digging into hunger-knobbled spines as we slipped under cosmic spells,
spying constellations in burnt out stars and speaking wax poetic
with slender fingers intertwined and your soft palm hissing softly as my callouses grated your skin

and when you told me you loved me, i really believed it
it was clear as the jewels that glittered on that midnight dressing gown the first half of the earth slipped on whenever the sun slid away to her lover's second side
obvious and inevitable and woman i loved you too
how impossible a thing it would be, to melt into each other's souls like wax on burning candles
without solidifying and finding a permanent fixture once the heat cooled off
through every wind and motion, all the weathers, where you'd go—there i'd be
but like candles, our wicks were time stamped and endangered
we faded out in a curl of dark smoke, and maybe that's when i turned to the nicotine