You spent so long
telling me
To go **** myself
I should forgive you
Or forget you
In whatever order
That doesn’t make
me question
What love is supposed
To feel like

"I love her," I wrote my friend.

"Why did you tell me?" he replied in the end.

"I don't know how to say it," I said full of shame.

"The first thing you do is start with her name.
Pluck out the her, replace it with you.
Put down your pen and pick up your voice.
Say those three words and give her a choice."

I walk as though the destination doesn't matter.
I'm never in a hurry;
the end cannot be better than the trudge.
Walking after midnight
my pillow is tired of hearing all the words hanging themselves on the tip of my tongue.
Which is weaker, people or love?

broken people
break people
and baby you
*******
shattered me

Could have convinced me
I am not
Irreparably broken
It would have been
You

When I go
Take this body
Burn it to ash
Forget what I
Looked like
And suddenly
The world will be
Dustier,
But
Better

I can hear my life
Complaining
About all the things
I have not
Let it be

I can hear my potential
Chastising
My laziness and mediocrity
In a single
Breath

buried deep
inside
of me
this grief has
gravity
be gentle with my
memory
it’s the only piece you’ll
have
of me

I
will
quietly
slip unnoticed
out
of this broken
world

Depression means
I don’t swim in the ocean anymore
Because I’ve spent days drowning
In my own bed

Depression means
I don’t hug people anymore
Because every time I let go
I feel guilty for letting go
Too soon
Or too late

Depression means
I am difficult to love
Because I need you to be with me
But not too close or too long
But don’t stay away
Because I get lonely but also
Need isolation because I’m an introvert
Because my love language
Says I like receiving gifts
But whenever I get a gift
I feel like a burden
And I’m not worth whatever you paid for this
Because I have put a cost on myself
On my happiness
On my mind
Because anything more than $75 an hour
Won’t get me a return on my therapy investment
Because I sometimes see myself in the mirror
And wish I could disappear

Depression means
Life and death don’t feel all that different
Because they’re both terrible ******* options

I am not a Phoenix waiting for rebirth
I am a silly boy dressed in feathers
thinking that Mardi Gras could bring me joy
I am not trying to disguise a part of me
I am trying to become something new entirely

You will find no cross
There will be no stone
On the side of the road
On your way back home

The blurry world in my eyes
My flimsy knees like grain of rye
Open mouth and silly yawn
Snap my fingers and I’m gone

It's okay to close your eyes
I will see you through the night
And the world will come crawling
But I am here; you will be alright

So lay your soul into bed
I know your days have felt so long
Like the weight of worlds is yours to hold
I hope your dreams come with this song

It's okay to be afraid
I know the world is ****** up for you
But baby you have angels
My God and these angels, we will get you through

stories can be poems
and this is a story
but when i call it a story
i mean i hope it has an ending
because when i found out i might have cancer
all i could think about was that end
the post-****** descent into
nothing
final full stop
no more pages
no more breath
because they say beauty is
in the eye of the beholder
and my eyes are
magnificent
malignant
my detriment
pop a piece of spearmint
because when you think you'll die
but you don't want people
to feel bad for you
you tell them only the good news

i am nothing
more than a messy tourist
don't do more than make
me a couch because despite my words
i will likely not
be staying long
see
i am clumsy
i drop things like your
heart
i scramble to collect the pieces
realize i was never that good
at art
just throw my efforts into the bin
how careless i am
to think that your life is a bin
that it's something i even had permission
to touch
when i come to town and want to stop by
maybe we can go dancing
like streets lights that are slow songs
not even red can make us stop
until you realize
i hitched a ride as soon as my thumb
wasn't wrapped in your hand
let me go.
don't invite me back.
i'll be on the road for a while
telling stories about
midnight memories, chilly museums, the sound of your heart beat
i will say
it sounded like home.
but i was too careless to let her hear the beat of my own

I’m sorry, Mother, for being something of a failure
And all the broken things
When I was a kid, I was angry
I kicked walls and dropped the dishes
I blamed it on slippery hands

Also, I’m sorry about the lies

I’m sorry I’m not a hero
Or brave

I couldn’t solve the problems of our family;
I tried
But I suppose passive-aggression
Isn’t the best form of problem solving

I am sorry
That your life is different than you planned
Even though it’s good now
I’m sorry I have nothing to do with that good
That you’re OK without me
You’re a better grandmother than I am a son

I am sorry that
You’re happier than I’ve ever seen you
And I hardly ever see you
Anymore

i do not care
how loudly you speak to me
as long as it's true

They called it weakness
You called it ashes
Regardless from
Where you came
You were born into
This strength

I don't know how to accept compliments
Like I don't know how to load a gun
And I'm afraid to learn because
I've never wanted to **** myself for trying to learn something new

Do not recoil when I forget how to hug
Because I've never wanted to escape something so badly that felt like home

Nomads can only remember what home means
When they taste it in freshly baked bread
And when you don't have to knock to come in
I have been knocking on vacant doors
And my knuckles didn't offer their blood in exchange for your absence

I do not know how to ask for help
Like I know how to load of gun
Because I guess a little practice is all it takes
And I could only focus on one thing at a time

I am living in the ruins
of a
broken heart

Trying
To be a legend
Won't
Get you into heaven

What is lost in the fire
will be found in the ashes
If I am willing to endure
this inevitable rebirth

I have no expectation for things to last.
Everything has a clock, an expiration date, an erosive half-life.
After taking stock of my current relationships,
I realized I'm hesitant to invest in people
because I don't think people will stick around.

People change.
People leave.

And for people who don't deal with change well
like me
that means
a sort of implosion.
Humans constantly assume different roles.

Mothers become grandmothers,
friends become strangers,
brothers become fathers.

With that, even family will leave you behind--
out of sight out of mind.
And I haven't been thought of in such a long time
I begin to think
no one will ever see me again.
Now I'm just wishing I can be useful in some way, so I can stop feeling like the world is tired of carrying me.

I sit,
watching people pass by as their world changes,
and mine falls apart.

In a world
of trees, I
was born
a bird.

Neither of us is God
but I finally found
someone who
answers my prayers

Loneliness is a frictionless erosion
A silent internal explosion
The walls crumble down
And even with crowds around
No one comes to check if you
Survived

A haunted house
Because
People are
Always
Looking for the exit

My vocal chords are exhausted
Sound no longer escapes my mouth
Yelling for help
Screaming for hope
For so long has taken it’s toll
Except I have never made a sound
Because depression is not something
People want to talk about
So I’ve kept it to myself
Shouting so loud my mind has gone deaf
And maybe that’s why
All it can think about
Is silence

She jumped from love to love
Faster than falling rain

I cost more than
I will ever
be worth.

I cannot repay the price
of knowing me.

Because I am damaged goods.

Sold as-is.

No return; no exchange.

That is why
I often find myself
tossed by the wayside--

Landfill graveyards.

You feel like the dark night sky
Making the rest of us shine like stars
When the morning crosses horizons
You think you fade away
But without knowing
You have always been the sun

We are simple raindrops
Swinging in the storm
And for a single moment
The fall isn’t bad at all

Thunder cracks
Resurrects our hearts from
An early grave
And we smile louder than
The universe

Lightning arrives
It makes the nighttime
Come alive
Suddenly we realize
The darkness will never win

We are simple raindrops
Swinging in the storm
As though this could start
Something more beautiful

Sometimes when people write my name,
They write GREAT
And it reminds me
It’s not so bad to be a mistake

My life is a monologue--
No one auditioned for the play
Here I am fumbling,
Forgetting what to say