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Untitled
come to the river of your longing, / put your grief down next to mine. / i will show you how i can bleed,
8
Aug 1, 2022
worn out maps
Your lips- / The first disaster. / A strange sea of intense blue,
28
Nov 19, 2020
possession
I liked to be in Hell, and / I liked to be there alone. / Violence tangled in this tissue,
21
Sep 21, 2020
hummingbird heart
love rains from my mouth, / it drips down the front of my t shirt. / i am pouring,
28
Jul 22, 2020
THE TRUTH ABOUT MYSELF
To tell the truth about myself, / A confession to my untidy spirit. / Blood dries under nails,
30
Jun 14, 2020
sharing a bed
It's a funny thing to lay next to someone, to sleep with them in a bed. / I can start off close and drift away in the summer heat, morning brandishing my dreams until it rattles me awake, gasping for sunlight. I can account for the missing space between our bodies, getting drunk on the warmth of his skin and waking tangled up in his curly hair. I can count the stars and talk to the moon while I trace my name into his palm with a finger, listening to the sound of his even breathing and the steady drum of his heartbeat. The world is quiet when my lover is asleep, my heart takes a deep breath and the soul pauses. I exhale all of the days worries in the middle of the night when he takes my hand and pulls me closer to him. In the spring time, we wake up further apart than we are used to, and my sleepy head turns to face him, and it's like waking up all over again. That moment where we are remembering the bed, the person in it, coming back to life, and he runs his hand down my back and kisses my forehead. "I've missed you," every morning, like a daily prayer for our survival, for another day of bliss.
15
May 16, 2020
ANOTHER POEM ABOUT GRIEF
My grief and I are well-acquainted. / Two strangers sharing the same body. / How else to explain grief but as a mirror?
50
Apr 18, 2020
I WILL NOT BURN FOR YOU
I AM WAGING WAR UPON MYSELF. / THEY TELL ME IT TAKES GRACE TO REMAIN KIND IN / CRUEL CIRCUMSTANCES.
34
Mar 17, 2020
ouch.
I'm sitting in a cramped chair, throwing popcorn at the screen. / "I don't know what to say" - he says, and I'm laughing. / "It's okay," I tell him, and I'm about to spill over.
82
Feb 2, 2020
questions
What would you like to hear? / If not to listen to the song of my voice, / If not to watch the way my eyes dance over your face,
41
Jan 25, 2020
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