I don't remember waking up
or walking home.
I like the sound of Zs.

When music is high enough,
everything falls into place.

In a park
lying on the ground,
I said,
"I was right about the weather"
she kissed me when I blinked.

Why do we want to be so
human,
walking in circles.

They drove donuts
in a grass field
next to a church
last Saturday night.

Smoked a pack and a half,
I quit again
not too long after that.
They danced over where he died.

Unmade beds clouded with
smoky afterthoughts.
Dreams prowl through the town,
a street war on tongues.

All walls practically
beg
to become paintings.
It’s a shame they already are.

It was probably the 4th of July.

I have nooses hanging from my ceiling
I’ve made all of them
With fumbling fingers in the rain
I’ve strung them to the rafters like a one hundred stringed guitar

When I get home I’ll make one more,
There’s one for every night I’ve spent in hiding.
It’s raining; I keep my lips closed.
Maybe I’ll get the rope wet,
It will rub harder between my hands.

I think it’s you,
My hands muddle in between flannel,
I’m frayed at the edges
And it hurts good.

I light up the rain
Refracting all over the window
In my corner sheltered in hopeful wallpaper
You keep me secret.
                                                                                          Hi

I keep my lips closed.
It’s cold you know,
My wrists don’t like showing themselves.
                                                                             It’s been too long

Tonight I’ll add to your waterfall
All wrapped and waiting
For a thousand pretty birds.
Lovingly stealing my breaths away,
Tiny ****** roughly holding on.

                                                                              It really hasn’t
No
It really has,
Since you’ve been away.

                                                                     I’ve made stars for you.
I should stop,
Every night I say I should.
But counting my splinters reassures me
I’m good at something.

                                                                           I need to tell you,
                                                                                   I’m done.
I’m good at ending,
But you’ve beat me to it.

I have all the time to choose from,
Hidden away safe, with me.
Suspended in the air, I am at risk
From myself, from my pendulums.
                                                                                *Goodbye.

I’ve been trying to fall asleep for 17 years
leaving blue imprints of my face on pillow cases
a signature of each dream I’ve had and forgotten.
Take me to church for my medicated tongue
and butterflies on my cheeks,
in a week
I’ll rest my forehead between the pews
on thick books of medical literature
again and again,
pressing a tiny cross into my skin.
I am not a religious person;
my poetry is about the silent h’s in words,
rhetorically questioning rhyme,
sedating my hair into thirds
and braiding my fingers with thyme.
Sacrifice a rib for a sheet of paper,
write me all your recipes,
notes on world history and
a list of pros and cons of living in Berlin.
Onomatopoeias keep me up until
6am
with wide eyes and albums of expired polaroids.
Dilated voices in fluorescent hallways
mix with the whispers of comfortable shoes,
hoping for good news.
After 17 years, my hands are shaky
my kitchen counter has a S-S pillbox
and I love the sound of sleepiness.

I woke up at the end of the line.
The new section of the track
brought me to party town.
A man was sitting next to me.
He smelled of *** and fake lemons.
A variety of things cluttered around him.
Two lottery ticket stubs lay on the floor,
one partly hidden under an old Michael Jordan shoe.
He won four dollars.
A mobile phone lay
trapped under a cage of fingers
on the seat beside him.
It buzzed a few times, he didn’t move.
I checked the time,
11:14.
Perfect, just another half hour ride home.

My life is made of paper memories
Connected by dust motes,
Eclipsed in tiny dates,
Strung across the sky.
Burning at the edges
Because it refuses to rain.

The soaked windows
Just remind me I’m blazing,
Perpetual melodies mixing,
Strangling me with their complexity.

Only the night knows of the stars like me
Staring at the Polaroids suspended from the clouds.
Between you and I,
I haven’t really stopped gasping for fantasy.
I live lungs deep in sleeping,
Only stage one of waking up.

With eyes closed I see your shoes,
Matching mine
Mouth hiding behind freshly cut sunshine
Protected like a smuggled dove in your hands

All my breaths are made of
Other people’s words,
Melting into shapes
To smear into my heavens.
Holding firmly in place by my temples,
A creature of me.

One day you’ll grow human, but
For now I’ll be drifting,
Playing with sails
Like old rolling grass.

Someday you’ll see me outside this window,
Curtained by rain
I’ll be flowing between the pages,
Waving at your smoke,
Camera in hand
Hanging up our pictures.

I wish you'd take

off
     your
              mask

and be mine.

Do I regret?

My body, my mind.

Yes,

I do.

I can’t help

But feel,

You’re hiding

Something…

Maybe love?

I dream of flying high,

My wings are so small.

Rain flashes like a glass bottle

Smashing to pieces.

Clouds are so close,

Just out of reach.

My fingers stretch down to

The waters' clouds instead.


Finished fighting,

I'm bolted to the ground.

I think

we're being watched.

You know,

people change.

Run.