Twilight mornings remind me of coffee tables and study notes
Sometimes I smell spray paint through open windows,
Even on the nights I ditch my cans for insanity
Breakfast-less mornings are recipes for undone laundry
And unturned plant leaves and un-salted tears
One morning, the porch’s railings crumbled in my hands
And fell over on the splattered rug sitting outside the green door
That I stumbled over and waited for fresh milk deliveries on
I find unlit cigarettes on the windowsill that taught me patience
And tornados in a mind that is too beautiful for damaged thoughts
I press petals over open cuts that never get the chance to bleed
And ice the bruises that refuse to turn green
But beside laptop keys that spell out what they know
I hit dlt over and over again; that’s what I know
The only other thing besides surety strung on tree branches
Are orange leaves sharp suns coated in silver
The shark tooth hanging from a string around my neck
Was only a metaphor that caused trouble

Don’t close your eyes when the stars come tripping after you, they’re just searching for a grey home inside the silver coated palaces you set on fire, lit up and burned down
- When you’re scared to look through screens of eggshell white because they remind you of ripped up, closed doors and veined leaves, punch through them, they won’t be controlling forever
- At night Saturn’s moons stare down on homes like the one you have inside your head to make sure you're drinking enough almond milk and brushing your strong teeth, don’t be scared of blue security and golden warmth just because it can be unfamiliar and far
- Even birds will fly from you in winged directions you don’t want to look towards, sing towards them instead and watch the honey dripping from your voice sink its teeth on distance
- You’re labeled as missing but shattered glass from cracked clocks don’t lie about mistakes, the only thing missing in you is faith

In dark purple it says train wreck on your lips
Don’t you dare tell me that you spoke like rivers once
I only see the sea as metallic orange
Like you only see me as the hands of a clock
Time isn’t what kept chipped seashells whole
Empty school parking lots remind me of cold winters
Some days you read the veins in your wrists as maps
Maybe that’s why you left boxes of strawberries in the fridge
When our tradition had been pomegranates
Did we not look up the synonyms for ‘danger’ one night?
I forgot to tell you I love you when you planted daisies in my bones
With purple ink you showed me the way to Mars’ moons anyway

Racing cars and blinding lights
On the corner of the street
After you came home last night
The kitchen clock stopped
Working at 9:30 pm
You were covered in tomorrow
Morning’s melodies and
August’s warmth but the
Carelessness in your eyes
Glowed more like February
When we had raspberries
For breakfast two weeks
Straight and you bought
New khaki pants because
Dad wanted you to
We had boundaries linked
With the ink of a pen
And wings that belonged
To red birds but we were
Still free and now all that’s
Left is the taste of sour
Apples and honey and old
Photographs tinted with
Mustard colours on the
Edges stacked in the
Bookcases covered with
Sparkling dust and crackling
Leaves I wish you left the
Constellations threaded
In your palmed still stitched

Smiles that drip with gold sadness and
Run from estranged places go hand in hand with
Blue perspectives and unheard words,
But I’d escape to anywhere with you
By my side if it meant
Danger and orange sunsets
Stale coated eyes and huge skies
Because you taught me that happiness
Is not viable if its not laconic
And the fewest of beating clocks were
Enough to last both a night and 7
Dollars in mere coins