i often find myself
wishing the rain would wash me away,
that a storm would shake my leaves
and rip up my roots,
and carry me along the waves.


― i've heard drowning is a peaceful way to die

rain against the rooftop,
an old melody in my head,
and a bittersweet taste against my tongue.
early may’s rain falls quick and soft
to april’s soft flower bed,
and steals away the setting sun.

it is with quick resolve
and soft delay
that i sit here,
overcast,
alone today.


— a night in may

the difference between feeling guilty
and feeling ashamed
is that society creates shame
and guilt is within yourself.
and i do not feel guilty for who i am.


― something i learned about being queer

tell me again the story about the sun and the moon,
how they were separated by night and day,
by time and space,
tell me again how they fell in love,
and crossed the sea of stars to be

together.

— tell me again our story

i’m so in love with your sleep shrouded voice,
drowsy doused rasp and torpid tongued.
rest against me and whisper behind my ear―
i love you.


―lay with me a little bit longer

i am better now,
but sometimes there are still blisters where i once had calluses,
and bruises still deep in my bones,
so please be patient with me.


― i am still a work in progress

you cut the ties with silver scissors and burnt the bridge with fictitious fires but you still insist you're the one who fell and scraped your knees with ****** fists on broken glass and sharp white teeth.

things have changed and the past is dead. these bridges you burnt are not meant to mend.

give up. go away. that's it―
the end.


― you're not the victim, you never were