that the world was ending
there were explosions in the sky and everyone was feantic
but me
very unlike me
to be afraid of death
was afraid.

for years
i have tempted death
whispered him sweet nothings
flirting
but in my dream
i seemed to want nothing to do with him.

in my dream
i was frustrated that the world was ending at a time i thought unsuitable
because i was happy,
fulfilled.
i find this funny because
for years
i have wished the world to implode around me
for everything to cease to exist
sixteen days.
a dream about the world ending
i’m told represents a major transition
or life changing event.
your life, as you currently know it, coming to an end.
maybe these years
of tempting death and cursing the world
are coming to an end.

i fear that when i love
it is far to much like a vine.
always longing to cling
and unable to grow alone
feeding off the sap of another
deteriorating any of my host trees
competing for their light

heavily vine laden trees grow more slowly
produce fewer seeds
less fruit
and due to their deteriorative effects on trees
most people seem to advocate the removal of vines.

i fear that when i love it is far too parasitic.

it happens in the spaces
between your hands,

the rosiness of your cheeks.

when you're laughing, and she cannot take her eyes off of you

you might not see it,
but it's there

growing in the midst of all the stillness.

"And at last,
I no longer have to roam
and I finally understand those
sailors who plant their lips to the ground,
I do the same with your body.
It's because you taste like home."
       - Shane Koyczan


when im with you,
the world around me freezes.

a world that
i have not always gotten along with.

a world,
which usually feels like a speeding car
heading directly for me,
catching me like a deer in the headlights.

you feel like coming home
from a long trip
somewhere far away,

where i've been sleeping on a floor,
or maybe
a blow up mattress.
uncomfortable and exhausted.

you are that feeling of climbing into my own bed once again,
finally getting a good nights sleep.

even if i could traverse to the ends of the earth.

i still don't think i would find a better home than right here in your arms.

i cannot make my anger beautiful.
or my pain sweet.
i refuse to make this easier to swallow.
i am not yours  to consume.

my body and i,
we do not always
get along.
our relationship,
like that of an old married couple.
an old married couple who got married a little too young,
too unprepared,
too wild.

a couple that's been together way too long,
so long that, now
we could not be with anyone else.
we don't know how to
and anyway, we have the same friends.

my body and i,
we fight a lot.
years upon years of arguments,
betrayals.
too many feelings have been hurt.
i'm not sure if there is even any trust left,
both equally as guilty as the other.


but there's still love there, somewhere,
deep down
and every now and again that goodness will appear,
hidden within the little things;
leaving meals out for each other,
tucking the other into bed after a long day
warm showers.
small moments of love

we stay together.