as children we feared the monsters under our beds or the ones in the closet hiding along side our clothes, but as adults we could never imagine that the monsters would live inside of our heads. these tormentors never letting us rest, never giving us peace, never letting us live. instead, wanting us to be miserable in the depths of our thoughts that drown us while others are fast asleep. these monsters, like the ones from childhood, are invisible to the outside world; yet they continue to cause nightmares.

The moment God folded us into flesh
He wrote about perfection in his journal
Put our picture on his refrigerator
Day dreamed about selflessness
Spoke of passion
Wrote a book on love
As the dust settled on that day
God rested for he knew
We were fully broken
Ready to be made right

One day you'll meet a guy
Who'll tell you you're beautiful
And you will believe him
More than you did me.

not claiming to be a poet,
just someone whose only friends
are bundles of words,
chewed upon pens,
and worn-down notebooks.

we're not making love,
love's existence is what created us,
we're just basking in the connection.

sipping on hot chocolate
in the middle of summer
the burn in my throat
reminds me of how you set my fingers on fire
(soul unwired)
one touch was never enough
hands would frenzy, ravage, take
but my legs would always shake
my teeth would chatter
as if predicting the chill about to bite
your presence was my sweater,
a security blanket
summer has never felt so cold,
bones have never felt so old
call it a casket of snow
time loses meaning
when everything is at a standstill
the blood doesn’t flow
properly anymore
brain and heart deprived
selfishness caught frostbite,
we were forced to amputate
lack of precision - due to numb hands
caused the blade to dance
and cut off a hell of a lot more than that.