He saw tesellations. I drew scribbled lines.

i have studied how men
have ensnared women
and called it love

to those who cannot fathom
a woman beyond womanhood
or a woman  beyond man

she was never yours to understand
she belongs to the deity of her own creation
she belongs to the eve who bit the apple and never apologized

(you once described me as an ocean)

an oceans
current is constant
its waves flow
pulled by the moon
while the stars watch
it grabs the sand
and lets it free with every fluid motion
never letting go of anything in its wake
you can caress its nature
but you cant grasp
the depth of life
that lives in the core
of its cave
breathing
thriving
in the darkness only its natural creatures
can understand

(and i understand
why you left)

is there growth in decay?
all I've learned from pain
is how heavy it feels
to be so empty

a glorified version of yourself
sets in, close quarters

you quiver at the thought

maybe you've  peeled far too much
of your aged scabs,
wounds of perpetual disappointment

in an attempt to forget

still your scars are a reminder
the past is not a friend
but a nasty truth
waiting to bleed out
the minute you slit it open

its over
but sometimes whenever
i listen to
our song
in the car
i swear i can feel you
swaying next to me
feeling the beat
move through your body
sort of like
the way you moved
through me
I guess some things
linger
even when they no longer
exists

I could yell out
Begging
To the cold
Void
hear nothing
In return
Claw at the very
Ache
In my soul
And it would still
Be more than
Anything
That could ever
Escape
Your
Lips

how can anyone
in a world filled with
                               duplicates
ever be an
               original

when you decide to come back
i'll be where I normally am

waiting for you

I've got this disgusting mentality that I have to be interesting for someone to actually give a **** about me

darkness stretches across a foggy sky
lamps flicker illuminating hazy dreams
an Isolated street
a distant past

i am a fish out of water
watch me dance on the land

watch as the life seeps out

watch as i
fade, fade, fade away

I dance free of music
I dance longer than my legs can handle

to be a single note within a harmony
of angelic music
and linger sweetly in your ear

to be the reminder that
not everything beautiful
is seen
nor solitary

you jumped into my salt waters because you knew you'd float.

im composed of whats drowning me
but, love, how i refuse to let you sink.

im enamored by the bare bones hanging from your gums

they remind me of the time my body lost its skin
whenever my veins and organs and such slipped through its cage

its been a while since ive thought of the monster hiding underneath my - non-social media - persona

excuse me while i check my twitter

oh yes,

forget the instrumental tone of the paper bag holding your fast food crumbling beneath your grasp because it is
what is behind this smile
the (arguably) faster food
that fills empty hearts, minds, lives

but who are you without these bare bones?
is it reason alone that compels me to stop staring-
or the fact that i just got a new notification

excuse me while i . . .

i have started collecting your words
and planting them
like flowers in a meadow

sometimes i pick them out
     "i'm crazy about you"

and twist them between my fingers
      "they'll write movies about us"

or pull at the petals
     "i like to know that somewhere in this world there's you"
in a game of love me, love me (not), love me

and, god, i hope spring never ends

my thoughts brought me back to france
again

i havent heard your voice for a year
and some

kinda funny how i only remember what it sounds like
because of how you'd say
"sortie"

stop thinking
about how rays of light
always seemed to
meet his eyes and
made them
gleam a golden amber
that reminded
you of honey

forget that his voice
dropped from his lips
like honey too

imagine how it was
before his presence
made you feel like
you were water
changing state

let go of feeling
his hand painting
your body
turning it into
art

remember yourself
crumbling under his grip
and the way he didnt even look down
when pieces of you littered
the floor

remember how much
she looks like you
before you were a collection
of broken promises

i stared at her picture
for what felt like forever

i tried to make out something wrong
desperately searching for an imperfection
a flaw
something that could beckon a mistake

and you said that it was all in due time
something you predicted

i wonder if you were waiting
for her
while you were
with me

its strange,
i can't stop thinking about how
my phone's still connected to your car's blue tooth

and you didnt even have
the decency to unfollow me on twitter

i wrote about you a little after
i regret putting more energy into
your memory than what you deserve

i hate that you continue to occupy space in my mind

admittedly shes fine, normal, completely beautiful
maybe its satisfying to you
the wait is over

a sculptor is seated
in front of a mold

clay takes the shape of
a woman’s figure

grooves the size of fingers
make indents over
her frame

she contains no head, arms, legs

gaping holes where clay
has been stolen
makes her existence
fulfilling

the viewer is asked to
take without refrain

the viewer is asked
to own every piece

the viewer is asked
to dispose of what
is deemed unsuitable

in quarantine
but my body has
always felt like
a prison

im imagining you as a staircase
suspended in space
an object defined by gravity
in its loosest sense

the ambiguity, a pull of its own
draws me closer
though i doubt my ability
to capture light between my fingers

you are dripping
through a galaxy
i have been stitched into

a compositional enigma
dark matter
there are questions that
the universe cannot ask itself

and still
space is your canvas

there are dimensions that
materialize when you speak

i kindly ask:
would you whisper
some

into me

we fell in love in the evening
as the night time overtook the sky
and the sun was collapsing

i think the stars could feel us falling too

back whenever my hair
was always falling in my face
i can still feel the touch of your skin
brushing over my forehead

i was a mess then
and i'm a mess now
but at least in that moment
i was yours