I was a different poet a month ago.
I was a different poet last week, as well as yesterday.
I am a new one today
with stories and emotions
that clash and fight with each other
that is why some days my poems are sad
others are happy
because it all depends on what side of me wins today.

my heart still has you in it
or
my heart still wants you in it
out of the blue, I’ll begin to feel blue
I used to be something like a maggot
or a reckless parrot
on repetition
I loved you like learning about the universe
atmosphere, planets, gravity, heartache
and I said
one day
I’ll be something like a lagoon
or a stunning full moon
and I said one day
and I said
one day

Still unsure how to love myself.

there is a man inside of me
he swears and screams
he is violent and
mean, unafraid of confrontation
i attempt to **** him with cigarettes
and *****
he only grows
and now he sleeps
in my throat

I miss using words
like acrylic paint
I miss the strokes
my mind would create
but nothing feels
as good as peace
there isn’t one word
that can give that kind of release