purpose: for in the many parts of me, I know somewhere there
could be a perfect version of me – if only I wasn’t losing pieces
of myself so purposely. living past due the experience of full sleep;
ten thousand butterflies in the net of my body, to form a fluttering
soul.

heavy lead filled tears to melt in the soil – when I choose to cry, I
think of the rain for my emotions to better flow, catching my breath
on love, by that breeze of excitement. winded from chasing after the
dreams of it, and running further away from prior defeats – some still
follow me.

love asks me, to fight my battle; a lover would tell me, “be my
champion,” my own strength would remind me to be a little more
patient – my eyes would sting me, for finding a reason to be blinded
again. lastly these unclean hands would pretend to have never
touched a piece of sin though in the many pieces of myself, pieces
of myself have been followers of skin.
            so stands the message, sighed as a lover

It’s funny how you had me run to your

needs and everything I did it was with

ease, no time to sit back because I was on

your track so if it derailed I knew how to

bounce back, it wasn’t fated or in no

contract I just knew your soul was reading

my context, ever so lifted engraved with

transition full of life and always in the

distance; you filled my days with ignition,

simplistic with intentions but not gathered

by good decisions, we parted ways when

Moses split the sea leaving thoughts behind

as if you were a daydream, a cutoff to the

main stream but I reopened up those doors

like a dam who was in need, refreshing

with a lesson but filled those pages with

wages and empty spaces for me to erase,

create and fill a void that ached with greed,

I knew life would prevail I stood my

ground and watch the ocean exhaled with a

stare that came in like a seclusion hoping

you weren’t the reason I was choosing

I go to the doctors
just for a checkup,
she puts her hand on my chest to feel my heart.
And at that moment i wonder if she can feel how its broken into a million pieces.
I wonder if she can feel with each thump, another piece breaking off.
I wonder if she can feel all the denial, all the workers in my brain trying to mend those pieces together,
but then it all breaking apart again.

Watch me pick pieces
Cardiac geometry
Repair rut you ripped

Puzzled— are all of the pieces falling away,
or falling quietly into place: these are assumptions from
the course of nothing, hoping to become something-
As for something for the time, I’ve come to ask whether
the feeling of nothing isn’t a feeling of things not fitting
well into their place

The picture feels like a maze labyrinth of emotions,
written so well out in braille- as that’s all I can honestly
feel right now

As the laid grail, comes from a sore back with *******
sacrifices- through the chambers of night; that which scares
me the most, is the constant nights where I’m trying to put
the puzzle pieces together of my life.

a divided soul
in ten billion pieces
one

i won't ever give you half of me,
or any portion other than the whole.

i will tell you everything,
all in the same breath.

i am sorry
i can not separate myself
into bite-sized pieces.

but it is not my fault
that you never learned
to chew.