they were real.
salty, soaked, strange.
upon your canvas, mixed into the rocky sea,
a hurricane was feasting.
shaking, shaking, shaking.
with my fingers, i tired to anchor.
with my lips, i tried to calm.
i couldn't dig my fingernails,
you refused to look at me.

my beautiful, wonderful baby,
all the galaxies combined could never
match your wonder.
let me kiss your tears, lick the salt away.
i must see your eyes,

we all need to be broken sometimes.

My darling. My sunshine. My love.
Right now you are across from me,
Eyebrows furrowed, nose deep in a book
With words and lines I will never truly comprehend,
I’ve tried, but they merely appear as squiggles.
And I keep falling in love with you,
With each blink of those gorgeous eyelashes.
With each breath I hear faintly but presently.
With each twitch your mouth dives in concentration.
With each flip of the page,
I keep falling in love with you.
I love you for the little things. The eskimo kisses, the inside jokes, the phone calls everyday, the brief but electric touches, the conversations, the way you remember things I’ve said years ago, how you wrap my hair around your fingers, how “I love you” sounds from your lips.
And as I watch you,
Concentrating. Focusing. Being that brilliant man I fell in love with years ago,
You have no idea I’m writing this.
I smile,
For maybe you’ll know. Or maybe you won’t.
But it won’t matter. Because I love you.

you make me

so unbelievably happy.

you make me

so unbelievably sad.

and i wish i could understand

how one person

can lift me to the stars

and then

hurl me to the darkest part

of the ocean.

hush, hush,
keep your rumbling down. let us not wake him!
he has no idea of this.
oh, this started so long ago, i cannot even remember
the first time i touched your heat,
tasted your iniquitous liquid.
i kept coming back, for one more sip, one more
sniff of your lip-smacking aroma.
oh, how my glands moisten at the mere thought of you!
how my nerves tremble without you.
so, shhh, shhh,
my joe, my java, my jesus.
keep your whistling down, my lover sleeps.
but tonight, we’ll share
another taste in my favorite mug,
we’ll swim in your bitter ocean

disappointment is like that 7th glass of ***** you shot back.
in the beginning, the transparent liquid seems enticing, your heart beats
with new rhythm. (your glands water, your pupils dilate)

1 shot in, it burns…but slowly disappears.
instantly your brain forgets, your vein longs for the torture

2nd shot in, the burn is like fire, your lips smack with disgust
but you can’t stop there

3rd shot in, you taste the gasoline at the pit of your stomach,
fueling the flame that you know will eventually eat you alive

4th shot in, your brain is sending signals, telling you to jump
while you still can, but your arteries silence it, and all you can do
is laugh

5th shot in, people’s faces blur, your tongue is thick with regret.
your stomach is ready to empty the lies you previously swallowed

6th shot in, the floor moves. you have to hold a chair to steady yourself. people’s voices sound like boom boxes at full volume. you cover your ears to stop the pain

7th shot in, you’re on the ground, watching the ceiling float away. you
feel the previous shots try to find a way out.

disappointment hid itself in that 7th shot, entering your bloodstream quick and painless. you are lethargic, your head pounds like construction during a too early of a morning.
you sink into the couch, into the carpet, trying to regain previous emotions, movements.
disappointment travels your veins, gleeful with the free ride, the new
habitat.

(at some point, you’ll have to get rid of him)

summer, spring, winter, fall,
it always carried a whiff of cleanliness, like lysol,
bleach and daffodils had made a not so secret love
child.
there were never any marks. no signs of mistakes,
accidents, humanity.
the floors glistened like the sun beaming off a black
convertible.
the windows, you couldn’t even tell they were
windows. not without the panes.
transparent like the shores of the Mediterranean.
I never touched anything.
I held my breath among glass, ornaments, picture frames.
afraid one intake would show up like a smudge that could
never be wiped off, no matter how much one tried.
she fits the house. like those china dolls, polished to perfection.
blonde hair rolled in unison curls. no frizz. never any
fly aways.
face just like those windows, eyes raging in a storm too far away.


his room was the only one i could sink in.
legos scattered
(i always stepped on the yellow ones)
clothes fuming with dirt and almost manhood.
his posters crooked, carrying characters dressed in
armor, or tuxedos, animated, weapons in hand.
his bed, never made, incasing the last impression of his body
(he always slept on his side)
a spot of drool still visible, blankets holding his scent.
soap, laundry detergent and oranges.
game controllers trashed, bite marks, dents, too many battles.
i finally breathed when i walked in.

purple, hazy hues.
yellow nuance, murky blossoms.
where are they?
azure tinge mixed in the honey.
canvas is blank,
with only galling white scribbles,
grey and ebony ink written.
enter, my darling
let me **** your fangs.
press. press. press.
my locks swathed in your fingers.
hard, my love, hard.
into my bones. film. upon layer.
upon membrane.
the blemishes,
your art.
tonight, we are animals,
so no time for serene.
passion.
howl with me,
consume me.

I cannot stay up too late by myself.
If I do, all the bad thoughts come
and the sadness expands, and floats
and explodes.
I think of all the flaws, how I am always
the giver.
how the future is so close, yet I can’t
make a path
(of any sorts)
how my scars will never truly fade.
I think of how I am always the one who
loves more.
and I think of people. and how someone is
awake. and breathing. and dying. and having
breakfast, right now. half away across the world.
I think of how we are all just a bunch of stars,
and I think of how we’re all just crashing into
each other.
(over and over and over)

I cannot stay up so late, with the night being
my only companion.
so I sleep.
because sleep is always more welcoming than
reality.

i wear my insecurities like my eyeliner, bold,
thick, never exactly matching,
never exactly perfect.
i embrace my flaws, like i shake
my *** when i dance,
unsteady. wild, a flame that festers
and blossoms.
i kiss my demons, like i eat a
milkshake, salivating, slurping,
a lover with no inhibitions.

i do not wear my insecurities,
instead i shove them down my throat,
hoping the stomach acid will dissolve.
destroy. them.
i do not embrace my flaws,
instead i push them back hard,
watching them fall to the ground and
break like glass.
i do not kiss my demons,
instead i spit in their faces, bite on
their cheeks until the hot, pulsing
tastes like
peppermint.