i am sitting on my back porch with you
more satisfied from your presence than
the nicotine between our fingers, and i'm
holding back laughter to hear yours first
because it's cold out and the sound of it
puts the warmth back into the air and
i can breathe again.

until your leg brushes against mine
then pulls back faster than i could notice
it was even there in the first place

the space between our bodies is a purgatory

have you ever believed
in something so blindly
so genuinely
that the moment you realize
it isn't true, something inside you
changes forever?
i wanna tell you a story, see
seldom do i ever
go swimming in drinks
deep enough to drown in
but when i do
i speak in tongues
about things that none
of my memories
are allowed to talk about
like that christmas
at the isthmus
where my girlfriend
plucked a conch shell
whiter than gods teeth
out of the sand
held it to her ear
and stopped time
that day she was a shade of blue
the could've made the ocean sick
see, she loved to play jokes
when she held
the sea shell to her ear
she gasped, called my name
and said "i want you to hear this"
i said "yeah, right, everybody knows it's just the same old sea"
she replied "no. not this one. this one is special. listen. theres music in this one"
she handed me the shell
like a promise she couldn't keep
and i held it to my ear
with all the potential
of seeing shore
after being stranded
at sea for years
only to hear
a tired dirge of silence
spill from its emptiness
i guess she didn't know
how desperately
i wanted to hear it too
because ever since
something inside me snapped
now sand pours out
of every post card i open
i hear seagulls
in telephone static
sometimes i have dreams
where i bury my hands
in every beach
i've ever been on
and exhume this graveyard of noise
every time i try to sleep
i spit up fishhooks
and i guess i'm obsessed
but maybe
if i hold my ear
to enough vacant things
then i could have back
the time stolen from me
since it happened
maybe they would get it
if they knew what i wanted
when i blow out birthday candles
maybe they'll find me
face down in a wishing well
i watch eternal sunshine
of the spotless mind every day
pretending i can forget too
because this sea sickness
has followed me for years
because yesterday
i walked into a music shop
and all the pianos broke
but the only thing
i can think to say is
*do you know how bad
a memory has to be
that you fantasize
about forgetting it?

isnt it ironic how things are much brighter in the dark?
sort of how we are only desperate after we've abused our second chances
and how you say you love me but you feel no spark?

To understate,
You are a seed,
The beginning of a tree.

You will grow and you will blossom,
And you will bear fruit and leaves.

So what am I.

The picker of fruit?
Spreader of pollen?
Maybe a tree, a bush?

You can,
And will
Exist without me.

This is an understatement.

Rather, you are a red giant,
A star ready to blow, expand.

Supernova.

Space-dust.
The elements for life.

i keep seeing hawks
or maybe it’s really you
swooping down to tell me what’s new
maybe they’re buzzards
and they can tell how i feel
lost without you,
a useless spinning wheel
maybe they’re birds but
maybe they’re planes
and i’m looking for meaning in nothing
in this digital age

*(r.e.)

my colorful mind has turned into black and whites, there's nothing to keep me going. won't it please stop? i want you to love me 'til i'm me again. my head barely leaves my pillow and my hands never stop shaking. my throat is so tight from holding back screams and words that were made for you but they got lost in the graveyard of my mouth.