I've given up writing December.
I swear I tried, but these lines
don't seem to care; The drugs never work.
The haze of blinking eyes and wasted time
feels like infinity. I want to misremember
those wide eyed faces and your smirk
when you said you were mine. (Words like knives.)
I knew it was fatal as soon as you whispered that lie.
I swear... I've given up this December.
My words can't dig up the dirt
to bury these Winter memories
and these lonely goodbyes...

a witting clap
echoes

flocks of letters
take flight

words'
remainders
to gather

to lit a fire
within the night

smoke
above the canopies

“I miss you” lit my
phone, as your tongue left its place
to touch her tonsils.

When I needed a google search to tell me if I was still a ******.

It took a game of dare or double dare to teach me I don’t know repeated sounds an awful lot like yes
and ******* can drop mountains on boundaries not yet built –
serrated edges on once innocent skin

I let you carve me.

Nine years later and I’m still trying to find air in the ocean where it all happened.
I took lessons, but I never learned how to swim.

I remember thinking you must’ve liked me, that was the reason
and returning the favor would’ve made it okay. I found you in my freshmen year yearbook.

But I was wearing a bikini shaped like ignorance and a smile lined with naïve

you weren’t reaching for my heart when you went to hold my hand,
forcibly lacing my fingers like ribs around your ****.

I still wonder if dropping the I don’t before the know would’ve made any difference.

I feel like I'm supposed to know how to handle myself but I don't

Pen to paper,
words on a page -
ink smudges
with wisdom I wish I could say.

Life is short
when days are numbered
but my thoughts
when scripted to paper
can immortalise my thoughts -
immortalising my soul

An immortal soul,
means immortal life!
Is it only my body then
that is faced with ending this form of life* -