i miss the feeling of kissing your lips
the spark of passion running through my
body sets me aside. i miss the softness,
kissing the waters of st. paul river in lyon, i long
to be back in your arms.

its been too many seconds to count since
i've been cut out from your favorite pictures
and that special place in your drawer
where you used to hide important things
from your parents. place me back there,
i've worked too hard to lose a place in your heart.
i've spilled out my heart and it won't go back in the cup.
i'm a dead fish in the hudson river and i'm gasping for the
last bubble of air and everything is starting to blur away.
catch me.

god forgive me, i've left you for so long searching for myself.

c’est incroyable qu'une ville
ne dort jamais, tout se que
je crois faire c'est rêver.

rough translation:
it's incredible that in a city
that never sleeps, all i seem
to do is dream.

my mother tucked me in one night

and i whispered her goodnight

as if i was too afraid to say goodbye

to her when she slept only ten aching feet

from me. i was brought up to

wish upon time; and i wished for the

moon just as a broken child wishes

that divorces were illegal.

as fathers hated the moon because

they couldn’t feel its presence

quite like the sun. as if they just 

gave away their limbs for the night

in a selfless act offered up to a

crying god who loved everything

he made and hated everything

he destroyed with

simple geometric words

that priests never wanted

to prove.


i laid awake on my light

blue bed with pillowcases

who cuddled with me through

the nights and caught every tear.

the stars whispered me

a poem that i once wrote

them and i swore that i

never wrote something

for things who had no purpose

in this meaningful world.

i held on to sand from the

moon and water from my

mother’s eyes; molding a

castle i will once live in.

she moved around the room with such
confidence and sat down on the red satin leather
couch. she lit a cigarette (was it a newport or
a marlboro red?). she told me she was an
angel of god.
i asked her to fly.
she ashed out her cigarette on her veins;
i could swear she spelled my name in black.
the ceiling lingered with a haze and i
didn’t know what to tell her other
than the stories i craft in my head on nights
when i decide whether or not i want to see the sunrise.
she just insisted this was a phase every teenage
boy goes through. but tell why my mother cries on christmas
because she’s being too nice, is that just another
phase, or is she just dealing with her life?
i asked her for a cigarette, but instead she told
me that god doesn’t love the smoke in my lungs,
or the stories in my brain, or the hands that write his name.

she dresses in all black like
someone died but she loves her grandmother. 
i obsess over the fact her eyes are 
the same color as her's but 
the reality is her earlobes are pierced
and her childhood wasn't the same as mine. 
she kisses her mother and father goodnight
and takes off the makeup that she thought would make her
look better. i need you here in the late 
hours of the night where all my mind thinks of is you. 
come by for a little and please 
allow me to hear your stories. i want to hear about
your grandmother. i want to hear you.

1:38pm:
this wasn’t meant to come off as “take me
back” but a customer looks just like you.
1:47pm:
she said “thank you” when i poured her water
and her lips creased the same way
yours did when you smile.
1:48pm:
she looked to her right at table 32, i remember when i brought you
here that evening and we shared an apple **** over
conversations with people i’ve never introduced to my friends.
1:56pm:
maybe 32 wasn’t our lucky number but her smile had that
amount of stars, and i thought about the fact your
stars are still burning
2:03pm:
she smells just like you, i don’t want anyone
else to take away her plate.
2:04pm:
she dropped her fork and i think i fell in love.
2:12pm:
she eats her dessert the same way you told me
“i love you.”
2:12pm:
she’s not eating anything.

to the boy i once gave my life away to,
it seems that your destructive
mind has broken my walls. you’re a continent, an
ocean, a lifetime away and i love you with
everything inside of me, but
i have found
someone
else.
i don’t want you to compare me to her,
because i’m not. i tried to make this process
go as slow as i could possibly make it,
from blocking your number, to making sure the flower
petals never fell on the ground anymore.
my hair that night went up in a bun, and the poems
you’re sending me have me worried as to whether
or not you’re going to take your life away, but i guess that you’re not
my responsibility anymore, maybe one day i will still be yours.
please refrain from emailing me/ contacting me/ making
posts on public websites about me. don’t’ reply to this email.
that’s all i have to say.