i wish i could get you
out of my head;
but how does one forget a love
so sweet it
left a touch of sugar
on the tongue


sometimes the simplest
most innocent things
become so beautiful.  

i left behind your ocean
hued eyes and found
myself in the arms of a new
kind of love.
i guess i didn’t want to feel
any more rooted than
i already was.

lately i’ve been catching myself
reminiscing about little moments
without looking at the big picture.
i see the blue ocean tint in my
rear view mirror,
although leaving is bittersweet
it’s best we go our separate ways
explore, grow, learn
maybe we’ll meet again some day.

the roads always take us
back to west virginia.
the hills we climb lead
to impeccable views,
beautiful hidden scenery
only we knew how to find.
highways became one-lane roads
the gravel washing out,
half-a-million potholes
when you drive on a hillside
like that,
the same rush comes
that you get when you look
over the side of a rollercoaster cart.
but when you’re with your best friend,
the rush turns to comfort.
“if we were to fall off the side of this cliff, I’m glad I’m with you.”  

14:23 5/31/2018

i keep looking for creativity in the mountains i drive
through & the skies above me but i'm starting
to realize it comes more from within.

i'm hoping to write more poetry
this summer, every year i
live i want to have written
more & more

this will be painful, each sentence a bee-sting.
it means opening up & digging down
deep to my roots and farther
beneath.  

to throw a rope-ladder
into my soul and
excavate every chasm that
makes me who i am.
unzip my skin to let my bones show,
carved into my ribcage,
'this is me.
this is happiness,
hurt
pain
anxiety
love. '
a mess of emotions crowded
into the same small
room.

these are my back roads,
my alleys that lead to the
backyard of my mentality.

words are a form of transportation.
leading down streets of confusion
and pain
that bring me to your doorstep.
i always end up here,
your arms, my home.

Like the ***** laundry
my thoughts keep piling up
like all the empty mugs
taking over my room
the stress is
taking over my mind.

I have the tools to clean up
I have my washing machine
and a dryer,
a sink and my two hands
but nothing will work,
there's a short in my system.

so I keep rebooting
but I'm left with
the same bugs.
so all I can do is sleep and
dream of a time when
things weren't as real
as they are now.
I wish I wasn't as real.

this is my poem for the day
this is me laying next to you
wishing you were
inside me
instead.

slightly ******
i lay here
im wrapped in my Mothers afgan
composed of left over yarn
the colors range
this was her very first one.

i feel paws on my skin
a purr at my arm.

i cant wait to spend another evening
napping with you
and our kittens

I wanna smoke all my cigarettes
down any drink I can find
remember how I used to call you mine
but you were never really mine