i'm at that point
where death is an embrace
and i crave that cold love,
but the birds are singing
their beautiful song
and it's nearly five am.

i wanna go outside
and be with them,
listen more closely
in the chill of early morning
as i pretend
it never crossed my mind:
one hundred ways to die.

they pause
and i frown against tears

please sing for me again
because i,
i don't know how to live
and your song keeps me
dreaming, of freedom
and escape
from Death's cold embrace

don't let me
stop to think
of how warm cold love might be;
do not let me
wonder about the way
Death loves me

i'm at that point
where death is an embrace
and i crave that cold love,
but the birds stopped singing
their beautiful song
and it's nearly five am.

my loved ones' dependency
is the only thing left
for me to cling on

my life: a responsibility.
good thing i'm responsible.

04:59
i'm waiting for number five

...

05:00

every morning like paradise
and heaven doesn't seem so far away with you
euphoria is your tan skin against mine
& there are one million thoughts in my mind
all connecting back to how to hold onto this moment
I know tomorrow we'll be strangers once again
please just hold me for today

We all want certain things to last forever.

An un-cupped delight in a crowded bus—Spirit of fury rendering you unstoppable—A flash of lightning in your step—A loving embrace—The ocean air—Admiration, unchecked—The fall with no end.
Breakfast… Certain things….

She told me that she liked the way my lips used to taste.
They’re alive now, sadly.
I guess I’m just missing death.

frantic clicking and running down stairs
flinging books and coffee mugs
hissing steam from ironing shirts
scrubbing boots and packing bags
wrapping lunch and writing notes
doors creak and then slam goodbye
and so part two
of my day
begins with
quiet

@journeyofdays

it's that kind of morning
you know the type
where you leave your
eyeliner wings crooked
and spend the time you
would have wasted to fix them
sitting on the bathroom floor
feeling sorry for yourself

(i can't distinguish between
what i say and what
i mean and apparently
neither can anyone else)

there's a gallon of
grandmother's bleach
next to my feet but it
has 9,000 calories of
pure sodium per cup
and i'm on a diet

(see i could say i was
just making a funny joke
but there's nothing funny
about that joke)

iwishiwasaperson
iwishiwasaperson
butimnotaperson
butimno­tbulletproof

(are people bulletproof
or is it just their hearts?)

guess all that's left to do is
cry if i've lost what wasn't mine
yoga in the middle of the night
showers in the afternoons
and laugh if i'm still a believer
in second chances (circa 2002)

Stay forever
Between the sheets of my bed
With the sun drawing on your face
Your favorite pajama top
And my hands bringing you to my soul.

After forty years of marriage
he still pondered whether
she liked
his arm around
her stomach
as she awakened
in the morning

I can taste the clouds
when our hands are intertwined
and his utterances always linger
but more like euphoria than
a shattered spine.
And I've never spoken to him
a lukewarm truth,
I've never loved him in grey;
We're amateurs,
cradled by caffeine on
Monday mornings,
still learning how flowers
can break through skin
that's mourning.