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September Dec 2017
paining, pining
i am refusing to branch
onto your spokes i am vining
touch me soft—***** your hand
September Dec 2017
was that really me?

i almost regret not introducing you to my friends
memories fall so separate
i squint to see overlap

so many minutes of my life in your apartment
i must not have lived them
if i cannot again relive them

was it really me on spotted counter top
was it really me against white brick
touch my palm to induction stove
hoping to burn but only touching magnetism

i almost regret letting it into my head
December 08th, 2017. 4:52am
September Nov 2017
Sorry I can't
hear you any
—more.
I think we're

breaking up.


I think we're

breaking down
each other.
draft from fall 2013
September Nov 2017
THE SEVEN-SECOND GENERATION.

White plastic hanger, previously molten molecules, bleach additions and thermodynamic repercussions. I use the word thermodynamic because "chemical" has a falsely truther connotation to it. It hangs the shirt I choose to wear for tomorrow.
A hanger is a hanger is a grocery bag.

There were actions behind every reason—but not reason behind every action.
And you don't talk about it, but you think about it—because you don't want the whole world to realize that it's loneliness hidden in that shirt. You were only trying to tell yourself that maybe buttons on the other side was for the better.

I forgot which words to capitalize in a title so I took capitol on them all.

There was a world once, out there, somewhere, that cared for more than seven seconds. They hung up the power button, asked the tide to come closer, and walked until their hair was wet.

Kept going until water kissed water within lungs.
Thoughts, words, sentences, combinations of letters. 2016.
September Nov 2017
i open doors—and walk through walls,
open thoughts—and forget them all.

talk to a bottle—kiss midnight

i do not think i feel alright
Is this where I tend to
September Oct 2017
what much affection
believe you earned-her.
once loved to learn-her.
help-her, hurt-her,
oh baby, choke-her.
thats eno-ugh of that
September Oct 2017
Pop-pop, rattle-bang
Red being the color of the carpet
In hasty prayers, upwards is forgotten
North, East, Smith & Wesson
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