You bought me metal sheets
bent in the shape of a heart.
after days of leaving me in the dark
wondering what I was going to eat

Sweet and bitter lumps I crush
between my hands
I eat my heart tonight
because maybe you’ll love me

You loved me enough to steal me
Under an unconditional facade
I forgave you every time
Hoping you’d hold me when I’m down.

But I will eat my heart gratefully
because you told me to
because that is all I can do
because that is all I am worth.

You can take nothing when it is left.
-Percy

They say, "If you love something, let it go."

Often that object of affection
is outside your control.

They say, "You can't have your cake and eat it too."

Once you have,
you'll know that truth.

I’d like to stand hand in hand
In my local coffee shop
Whilst waiting for the man
To serve our favourite drinks

We could share a croissant or a piece of cake
And sit at a table by the window
to watch the people walking by.
Now and again we’d share a joke
about what we’ve just seen

We’d probably look at our phones
and you’d be always busy with something
that must be done right now

But that would be ok
because when we get home
we would become one again
as only lovers can.

Me and my journal
Got those old country blues.
Turns out,
White hot heat
Doesn’t make
for a 'Brown River, Smile'.

So,
    I cried some.

Then bought eggs. And flour.
And sugar. And butter, for cake

    And made one.  

Because young life during hard times
In old country
Isn’t left with much else
to do–

    Just make something beautiful
    And hope to get through.

modern monarchs, recorded in technicolor
think its real, but its cake
think its real, but its fake
under the guise of god’s fate
modern monarchs, makeshift mothers
desperation at stake
where are all the fathers
under the guise of god’s fate, we falter

It'll speak to you when you wake
Thus I wallow long in bed
Till I hear and duly feed
Then I'll rise and eat the cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
Even at times before bed
Then you're waiting as dawn peeks
To run with no time for cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
But ignore it before bed
In nightmares it'll haunt your sleep
Till you walk and forgo cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
Why study when time for bed
Books are weary but sleep's sweet
Thus you'll eat and keep the cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
If not you'll despise your bed
To roam and ceaselessly seek
For real food and not the cake

a frosting-filled slice
eaten one day is a treat -
fluffy, sweet, luxurious.

eaten every day -
nails encrusted with frosting,
cloying, drained, decayed.

The storm is over - no, not last week’s nor’easter - midterms. I hope you survived.

New England seems to be one, big, storm-of-the-month club. Campus is 5 minutes from Long Island Sound and I like to go watch the mesmerizing roil of the ocean when a storm’s rolling in.

The choppy hazel undulations, opaque as enamel, seem to coil-up - then suddenly slap the shoreline breakers as if testing their resolve. The wind whipped salt-water patterns, like folds of linen. The wind and salt water mist in your face feels as sharp and violent as glass shards.

The sun occasionally pierces the clouds like a knife strike only to be healed in moments. The whole scene is beautiful, immense and uncontrollable - like eating cake by the ocean. (song reference).