If I were a tree,
my roots would tunnel towards you.
My branches,
stretching for just one touch.

If I were a flower,
my petals would blossom at the sound of your laughter.
My thorns,
removed by the tenderness of your voice.

If I were a river,
my stream would carve for you a way through mountains.
My water,
purified by your resilient spirit.

Fences fail quietly—
in a slow tilt
colors give way
surrendering—
a silent retreat
from brown to brittle.

I press a finger
catch the rough
edge of metal
its dust scratching my skin—
years thin us
like coins drowned
in riverbeds.

It goes this way
I think—
a long fade
grit slipping
into dark water
turning to mud
just enough to remember
we once held on.

And I wonder if we, too
were made to loosen
to dissolve—
no shards or splinters
just a long sigh—
as time corrodes
at our hearts
turning all we were to rust.

you are so much more
then your fathers son
you are so much more
than the wars you have won

most days my demons are silent
but when they talk
oh god
How they scream

This is a story about two boys
The taller one has a gun tucked into his waistband
And thinks the bullets are meant for him
The older one has a record player in his head
He sings along to the same five songs
They know each other
Down to the color of blood
And the sound of bones breaking
But they are strangers
The one with the gun keeps forgetting the words
And the boy with the music Won't let him shoot

To be born
your body made a pact with death
And from that moment all it tries to do is cheat

if you spend too much time inside your head
you will never get
to experience
the beauty of this world.
this world is right here
may as well use it

I’m not fragile
I’ve just been broken
So many times before
That the glue is unable to hold.
I’m not fragile, am i?