LET ME DRINK YOUR WORDS LIKE THEY ARE THE FRESHEST WATER ON EARTH AND LIKE I AM DYING OF THIRST.
GIVE ME A DROP OF YOUR POETIC SALVATION.

my body is suffering a battle between the destruction
from my brain and the creation from my hands
the winner constantly balanced in a tie
and my weak hands rip through the translation of
my creation that my brain fought over.

words as windows,
screen protecting the fall.
Is the screen made of computer or woven mesh?
Lately, they seem the same.
Stopping me from falling into the abyss
that haunts me with that same darkness.
her eyes were the only light that food me and
showed me how to raise my hands to the sky, showing me to reach taller.
BUT I DIDN’T KNOW I’D BE RAISING HER UP LIKE I DO.
a glance into her brain proved too orange to bear.
I was too mint for her.

I keep thinking that the reason I kept waking up that night was to see who it was sleeping next to me. I wanted it to be her, but I knew that was impossible. It was someone else + an invisible divide we were too afraid to break. I woke up much before she did + she looked so peaceful + gorgeous + too pure to be in the space with me. She rose much later + fixed herself up. We laughed a little and looked for a sock she lost underneath my bed. We searched but couldn’t find it. She explained the teas she made + slung her bag over her shoulder. She gave me a hug + then she kissed me. Gently… on the cheek. My heart started racing + I flashed back to December. The kiss on the cheek + then the betrayal. She left as I was living in a dreamscape that frightened me. maybe kisses on the cheek aren’t a good thing for me. They’re tainted with earthly lies.

sometimes the world is all a line .

and sometimes it's a million tiny orange lights as i glide above the clouds.
the perspective of my life is brought to my attention.
the woman to my right has some anxious tendencies.
she’s been picking at her left fingernails for the duration of the flight thus far.
the woman to my left seems to be coming home to her man or a family member.
they’re both watching a movie that i have no idea about.
she seems conflicted..
right woman likes coke and cookies.
she is also cold/
she rolled down her sleeves and pulled out a light button up .
she attempted to cover herself with t.
left woman has beads on.
probably coming from a reserved celebration of mardi gras.

i dont know.

my love has me drinking coffee at midnight
my love has me watching the sunset at dawn and the sunrise at nightfall.
he has me biting my own lip when i catch his scent on my sweatshirt.
my love has me crying in airport terminals and my love has me wishing for the sweet release of death where i can be everywhere at once so i’ll never have to leave his side.
my love has me dancing to the wind chimes and talking to my stuffed animals .
my love has me tracing the curve of his lips in the stars





the one that broke my heart has me listening to our songs
the one that broke my heart has me crying in airports and drinking coffee at 3 am wanting to shake to forget the lies.
the one that broke my heart has me curled up on my floor questioning the past 10 months of my life and second guessing those times i almost died.

I feel so different,
so out of time.

Good ‘Ol days expire like the milk
in a deadman’s refrigerator.

Time to grow up, time to leave it all behind.
Take this heavy load, 4 years to decide
the rest of my life.

Who will I be?
Do I know?
Do I want to know?
I don't think so….

Not to imply that life is a feast placed directly in front of the eyes
but it shouldn't be designed on the judgement
of a young adolescent who can’t tell love
from lust.

What if I don't want to grow up?
Who will save me?

Where is my Peter Pan?