Are you feeling caterpillars in your stomach?
Will you give me a wedge of religion to chew on?
Is it possible, two weeks after moving in
to a third-floor apartment on the outskirts of town
I’ll discover hairs in the sink
like skinny black maggots,
wounds on the couch from a spilt glass of red?
Are you going to comment on my skin,
am I going to do the same to you?
Will we share baths together,
watch our fingers wrinkle
as we volley stories to each other
like we did when we met?
Or maybe you’ll thwack me with a pillow
if I begin to snore or drool,
maybe I’ll crank my voice up a notch
if you whine about work
and we’ll sit in different seats
with the TV turned down.
Will I be just too boring? Is that it?
The whiff of my aftershave,
the shriek of my knife against
the plates we’ll buy from IKEA,
all those things will bring about a moan.
Am I going to have to dine on politics?
Would you hate it if I checked the scores on my phone?
The *** might be so disappointing
we won’t even bother to undress anymore.
We are thinking the same thoughts here,
we must be.
Are we doing the right thing, darling?
Will it ever be time for the right thing?

I fold myself into a billion pieces
So that they will not see the gaps
That pierce my soul
I am an eclipsed moon
On a cloudy night

These bed sheets formed hills out of your curves,  and
             I leaned in to place my lips gently, on yours
like morning dew that sits on a blade of grass, and a  

ZAP!

came from the build up

                                of electric charge

A half smile and a frown,
        I stopped you from using your hand to soothe the pain from your lips, and kissed you  instead

In a room filled with natural light
You shone the brightest


The wind whistles and tree branches with ice filled cracks, breaks trying to dance with the wind.

And we were warmed knowing

        That on cold days we were not alone


.....and no it's not selfish that you stole the duvet and wrapped yourself into a cocoon.

Jan 7th. 2016

"Do you remember me? or are you proud?"
Lightly advancing thro' her star-trimm'd crowd,
Ianthe said, and lookt into my eyes,
"A yes, a yes, to both: for Memory
Where you but once have been must ever be,
And at your voice Pride from his throne must rise."

sadness, madness:

to have your heart broken
and
to write about it
like it's the most beautiful thing
you've ever felt
and experienced
and
like it's the most beautiful thing
to feel

when it actually kills you.

— l. m

See that bed?
That's where he had his heart attack
When my dad was alive.

See that hospital?
That's where he was
When my dad was alive.

See those chairs?
We sat there waiting
When my dad was alive.

See those double doors?
I walked through those
When my dad was alive.

See that fountain?
I used to see it everyday
When my dad was alive.

See that cafeteria booth?
That's where me and my family ate
When my dad was alive.

See that nurse?
I think she might recognize me from
When my dad was alive.

See that couch?
That's where I sat
When I learned
That my dad had died.

I've learned that happiness
cannot be found in the form of a little
purple capsule.
I've learned that Pisa will have to wait until next time.
I've learned that the third mushroom
held in my sweaty palm was not as
big a deal compared to the other two opening my mind.
I've learned that a part of me
died that night where we ****** in a
room with no furniture.
I've learned that life is work and that
the molotov cocktail of Dubrah and eay mac
that came spewing from me left an orange tang
upon the floor.
I've learned that pain is better than numbness
and that jabbing a sewing needle repeatedly in my arm
was an educated decision.
Most importantly I've learned that together we are better than alone.