when the sun set on this
tiny german town we set out
we were forced to believe
nothing could stop us
and there was no sadness
or anger or madness or danger
then the sun returned
making a liar of that
recklessly whispering liquor

Pour a tragedy into
my hand and allow the
novelty to drench my fingers
and seep my skin. I'm
jealous of my age yesterday
and the person
who I might be tomorrow.
What a baffling existence we lead every
morning after the awe of
the sunrise
has dissipated.

When
the world outside my
window looks like a charcoal smudge
on the back of my fist, I think
of the uncoiling stillness bleeding
in and out of me with each breath. I'm wholeheartedly
in love with
thoughtless first times, but
I'd rather burn a bad first
draft and recklessly risk scorching
my fingers
instead.

I burn my tongue on coffee every
morning and shiver myself to sleep.
But one thing I learned today
is that a colorless existence is normal
for most people
until you have the courage
to spill a little blood
and believe that red is
the most beautiful color.

cloaked in immense difficulty
the things i really wish i could write
i don't feel much outside of the drumming
the things i do feel are too real
i've always been better at running

Heroes are
parched
for a good
story, searching for
the ending in a bleeding
sunset, while the
damsel in distress
is a prayer
the hero
will never pray.

We are the ruins of
our ancestors, and
because of that
it is sometimes hard
to feel
alive.

We cannot be taught to bury
time, but within us are
thousands upon thousands of stories
piled high like ruined castles
where we might find some magic
power
that comes close enough
to touching the sun without
an aftertaste of ash.

minutes i'll never get back
have been contracted to a cat
erasing the possibility of being fired
i'm constantly tired and haven't had
a good moment in months
i often reminisce on the days
before i gave away everything
that made me me for a pair
of beige boots and a high fade
memories are usually accompanied
reluctantly hand in hand with questions
why am i really here
was it worth it
will i ever get a return on this investment
i'm pretty good with numbers
but no matter which way i cut it
the answer is on the inside of a magic eight ball

the weather is getting nicer
as we stay up later and the sun
won't set until we're done
being sober. he says goodnight
and sinks beyond the skyline
i think i can manage a couple more drinks
in my mind there's not enough
to make me forget

How in love are we?
Can you tell?
This is me trying.

I have been every shade of someone else
But with you, I am myself
This was something I was supposed to be immune to
That I claim I’m better at
This is going to hurt
Loving you is like reaching the heavens
While planting myself deep into the ground
Bridging them with all our words of love and promises
Always the certain words, always the uncertain future
You are my release from this trap of skin
Whispering my insanity, breaking the naked eye
Each of my 206 bones are aching to fuse with yours
If I didn’t say I love you that night
That would’ve cost me a whole universe
Thoughts of “You ruined it” came rushing
But when you inhaled my words and let out a smile
I knew you wouldn’t let me destroy this alone
You never let me hurt the poems in my lungs
Always the air to breathe in
You let me breathe
You are one of my birthday wishes I never made but came true
I swear to god you can see a mosaic of you on my nails
A museum of half-drunk thoughts of you in my head
Your irises are deeply rooted in mine
Hands fit, shoulder blades never cutting each other
You're already in poems I haven't written yet
They will never lose a hint of you in them
We never needed that relationship anatomy
We are our own perfect piece of the time frame
I found happiness in your tired arms
I stopped hiding
You are safe in my mouth
I am always hungry
Never distant
But never close enough
The corpses of my questions found light in your answers

Our lost became our home.
Our broken our ceiling.
When we started building again, that ceiling crashed
Now we see stars, the swirling galaxy that made this worth the pain
When we said “I love you”
We meant “I am ready to be consistent with you”

How in love are we?
Can you tell?
This is me trying.

I will not try
to fill these pages
with what i know
and what i don't.

Instead
I will fill them
with how i feel
and what i think
and why i dream.

I will fill these pages
with every wondrous
feeling i've ever felt
and the ones that have yet been introduced

These pages will be so
full
that the journal
will be noticeably heavier.
Than when I began

It will call to those who are apt.

And it will show them the
wondersand joys
of my life.
But also the
sorrow and rage.

She must be careful
because as words fulfill and inspire.
they can also destroy and diminish.
The soul.

I believe in the power of words.
And how they can make you feel
Hopefully, one day

She will too.

i've never been a wasteful person
and this realization makes me fear
that it would be a waste of the first beer
to not have a second
how would i sleep at night