"If I turn down the music,
that doesn't mean that
I want to hear you
talktalk and talk."
I used to say to him
after he'd tell me to
low down the music
after hours of hearing
nothing but my music
blast the woes of other
human's souls.
I am convinced that we
as humans don't always
need to hear that voice
that constantly chirps
in our head, we don't
always need that.

let's talk about his
peanut butter thighs
and his cashew eyes
his cloaked voice that
floods me when he
speaks, and his
big hands and thin
fingers. Let's talk about
all of his parts that make
him whole and makes
my eggplant legs go
bump bump
in the night.

You used to
pay attention
to things like
my absence.
Where I've
been and
where I'm
going
as if I
ever knew
the latter.
I used to
hate your
questions
saying,
******* my
dust, I'm not
your star ***.
Before
hanging up the
phone or
shutting the door.
I can't believe
I actually
miss you
now.
And the way
you used to
kiss my lips
in my greatest
moments of
panic, holding
my chin up to
your face and
saying, *you
are my star.

between yesterday
and today I wrote
thirty-seven poems
because I didn't know
how to feel
everything.

danny told me
danny told me
hold my hand
whenever
you need to
but my hands
pulsed from sweat
and his hand
kept slipping into
and out of me.

i wrote thirty-seven
poems simply so
my mind could have a
moment to dispose of
everything so that
it could have
room for more
than everything.

I haven't felt so
drained in my life.
I haven't felt so
numb in my life.

i demand
a certain
amount of
warmth
from every
body I lay
next to.

this won't
save your life
or even your
neighbor's
but it will
make you feel
better.

I asked him
to stop singing
but his voice just
got higher.