kissing girls:
she makes me feel so alive --
but i miss her funeral anyways
sleeping on my mountain of
burning gold and
empty graves.

leaving leftover tea
out in the car
as it rots and turns to
lukewarm longing.

kissing anyone  
i'll never learn
how to
breathe fire.

i'm nocturnal
but my eyes refuse
to adjust to
the dark.  

so i whisper poetry into
the silhouettes of
whoever will
have me.

i
cry to myself
cradling my skull
in ***** claws
that rip and tear
at everything
i try to
hold.

sleeping in
an empty bed,
i want to hold her
hand again.

i crawl out from
a ****** of pine trees
belly-deep in the tall-grass
where no one dares to wander
mistaking my echoing cries
a painful roaring sob
that reaches
out for the stars --
they think me furious
but i am only
             alone.