machu picchu,
my mountain of a man.
your sturdy broad shoulders
match your strong rough hands.
i get scratches on my cheeks when i summit to the peak;
exhausted from the cardio and dopamine depleted.
its always a good time being a tourist in your city.
ill be sure to come again.

i thought my thoughts were justified
but who’s the judge of our own minds?
what goes on behind the scenes?
a puppet master pulling strings?
im left to question my integrity.

her eyes were the color of burnt sienna
arched over pools of black.
she had the smell of chimney on her breath
and wrinkles like flowing smoke around her lips.
she looked an age only defined by sullen experience, matured from countless wakeful nights.
its impossible to guess just how many years her face met the pillow
and the pillow soaked her tears.

im just a girl
who loves other girls,
but im in love with a boy
and i can’t keep my head straight.

if you were a lego
id still step on you.

what a sad world we live in
when comfort comes from a bottle,
acceptance from the monitor,
and genuine joy from internet shopping.
what a lonely way to live.
spending all our dollars
on coffee, *****, amazon,
and amateur pornstar models.
wondering why a like, a comment,
or any kind of attention
is so god ****** addictive.

we don’t love each other anymore
but we treat ourselves like little toys.
i’ll make believe our life is great
while you pretend you’re ‘working late’.
we tried to fake a makeshift home
the husband, wife, and family dog.
a plastic life where nothing’s amiss
just two kids who make dolls kiss.