i turned around and shut the door but you still had the key.
so i changed the locks and hoped again
you wouldn't find your way back to me.

but you'd pick the locks and burn down the door
until there was nothing left anymore,
so this time i'll leave no door
for you to open and get to me.

― this is no longer your home, stay out

my heart hangs heavy this morning
and air escapes my lungs easier than it comes.
drowning in the silence
and the static of what you say,
i am alone today.


— nothing has changed

my eyes are not blue,
they do not wash away your worries
in their soft ocean hue.

my eyes are dark brown,
and they carry the weight of the world
in their harsh earthy tone.


— heavy is the cost

we were like strangers who knew each other very well, meeting for the first time in a fleeting moment. our bodies foreign to each other’s touch, all passing glances and timid hands, but it could never last too long. someone always had to go, someone always had to return home, and there was never enough time. we’d become strangers again, dreaming of good morning i love yous spoken in tongue, written between skin, read between limbs. and slowly memory would fade, skin on skin fall faint, until all remnants of our existence withered away.


― until we meet again

your hebenon heart with blood of black ink
of loxotic lies and twisted truths sink
deep in your body you make yourself home
seep in your poison to blood and to bone
make yourself see the truth you believe
not the truth that truly would be.


― a mirage of your own manipulation

because that's exactly who you are, you'd crash your car and blame the road, hang yourself then blame the rope.


― victim complex

i like the rain.
the sound, the smell, the feeling against my skin.
its warm water seeps into my roots and and feeds my restless soul.
but it’s raining a bit too hard,
and my leaves are falling,
my flowers are wilting.
petrichor stains my stinging lips and fills my lassitude lungs.
there’s too much water.
rain turns to rivers and rivers turn to waves.
i’m afraid i’m drowning.


― i need a minute to breathe