What is this feeling?
I know this feeling.
It’s been a long time
Since I felt the stargaze
Tarnish before my eyes.

But I remember
Sleepless nights
And a shudder
When I saw you
For the first time.

You won’t have the same
Satisfaction
In my response;
I know what you are
And why you’re here.

You don’t have to convince me
That the shadow
You cast
Is my only friend;
I know it’s not and yet,

Here I stand.

Should I be afraid?
Will I come to fear
The places
My mind
You will take?

I’m too lost
To turn away,
You always seem to know
Just how long
This candle can burn

Before it fades.

I think I can pretend
Once more
That your vast nature
Can comfort me

I think I can pretend that
The light I see
Is more intimidating
Than the arms out you reach

But what the **** is this feeling...

What a waste of my eyes,
To see the mundane
Without realizing
That life is slipping away
Into routine.

What a waste of my hearing,
To know that I have talents
That are feeding nothing
Except the same playlists
And artists.

What a waste of my touch,
To type
Instead of feel what it means
To take a risk
In real life.

What a waste of my scent
To smell trash on counters I left,
Never getting lost in
The perfume of nature;
Never truly breathing life in.

What a waste of my pallet,
To sit here dreaming
Instead of kissing lips
That I know I want nothing more
Than to taste.

I wonder if you’ll let me see
What it means to fall with only a whisper
And feel the scent of blueberry wine
On my tongue and lips,

I wonder...

You hurt me today.
With a tongue that's sharp
Aimed directly at my throat
You tore away at the concepts of who I am

You don't know it though.
I'm still the same little boy
That you sent off to college
An obedient copy with no mind of my own

I used to laugh too,
Making fun of the people you hated,
But it wasn't really the people,
Only mere caricatures.

You've never taken the time
To speak to us
Only heard about our wickedness
From others who don't know us

I guess it's hard to blame you
It's easier to hate what you don't understand
It's easier to hate when you pretend what you're attacking
Isn't as human as you are.. isn't it?

It's easy when you're attacking an umbrella
Stick all of your fears onto it
Put people you've never spoken to
Into a box of evil, so you have an excuse not to listen.

You wonder why I've been so quiet
The past few years
Well the truth is you've already said you hate me
You just don't know it's me you hate yet.

A winter chill
Fogs from your mouth,
Dissipating after a brief moment,
While the sound
Echoes
From soft lips
And closed eyes,
Allowing your sense of touch
To be your mind’s only focus.

A lost art
You’ve come to appreciate,
Flows through you
In the night.
Goosebumps roughen skin,
As a chill runs along your back
From the breeze.

Your button-down curtains
Have opened up,
And the moon's gaze
Is the only entity
To be witness
To such a sight.

The letters
Fingertips write
Across bare skin,
Drives a longing
Towards the edge of sanity's cliff side;
I wonder if you’d trust the fall,
Letting the breeze
Wander further down below.

I wonder if you enjoy the wind at all,
From kissing lips,
Paving a road
To destinations unknown,
Or animalistic eyes
Smiling up,
Locking this moment
Within the iris,
Craving your love.

Desperation
Is a bitter smell
That clouds the mind
With illusion and mystery,
But I wonder how
It could make
That smile of yours
Unfold.

I wonder if you want to boil over,
Or if you want to be still,
Stay blush from
This winter chill,

Staying safe,
Keeping the temptation
From leaving your embrace,
And hold tight
The drum
That beats wishing,
And be atlas-stone cold,
With a spark
Blown out
By the winter chill.

It never ceases to amaze me,
How lucky I am to be living today,
All the things I take for granted,
That others in history never dreamed of.

Pale light floods through my window
The moon reflects your light
So I know that you're still shining
Even when out of sight

It's a small but beautiful thing
That something so far away
Unaware of my existence
Can make me feel that I'm okay

Now a light appears behind me
As I gaze at the moon out of my window
Someone just beginning their day
Is texting to say "hello"

I'm eager to respond
As I tap this small glass screen
As we talk a world away
I still feel heard and seen

It brings me some small joy
To imagine how they react
How their face too lights up
When the screen is no longer black

I rarely get to hear your voice
But I don't feel the need for mine to be heard
I still feel love in your messages
I see you between your words

It's hurts the brain to think about
It's heavy on the mind
From across our small blue planet
You can still say "you're mine"

I'm glad that we're alive today
With the chance that we've been given
To meet a beautiful soul from across the world
That reignites my love for living

I'll be waiting by the phone now
Until your name appears at the top
To see "I love you"
And "I'll never stop"

I am winter,
Breeze, chill
Cold.
Brushing through
Trees fingertips
Killing
With every kiss I blow.

I am the water,
Pouring into hot oil,
Burning and tainting
Skin that immediately regrets
Holding.

I am the void
In your heart
You cannot ignore,
Giving false hopes
To drive you further
Beyond even trying.

Breathe into me,
And give me life.
I am the shadow
You call your friend
When you lie down your head
Unto empty sheets
And your single pillow.

Maybe you will hate me,
Maybe you will hold on,
But I will always be a part of you,
For I am your creation after all.

The sky is still dark
It's early morning
The smell of dryer sheets fills my nose
As I grab my scrubs and head to the shower.

The warm water runs down my body
Drips from my hair
As I think of all I might do today
How to save and heal lives.

I've put in the work in class,
I've studied disease processes,
Their cures and treatments,
The proper assessments and labs.

It's all so abstract on the pages of textbooks
A disease exists as a concept in my head
The treatment plans seem so simple
And so straightforward.

In the simulations I've done
Everything is controlled.
As long as I do everything right,
Everything will turn out fine.

Now on the hospital floor,
I receive my assignment,
And the paragraphs from textbooks come to mind,
As well as the practice questions and simulations.

But walking into my patient's room,
The conditions and diseases I've studied,
Are no longer conceptual.
A living human being is suffering.

Checking the labs and diagnostics,
Just how uncontrolled real life is,
Begins to sink in,
And the reality of inevitable failure sinks in.

In the hallway I gather myself,
As I grapple with the new reality,
That I won't be saving lives today,
My assignment is to make what's left as good as possible.

My sudden change in perspective,
Is nothing in comparison though.
My patient has an adult body,
But the mind of a small child.

During one of my routine assessments,
My patient winces,
Unable to verbalize their pain,
They strike their head and cry,


"What did I do wrong?"


My heart breaks.
This poor soul,
Cannot understand that a disease,
Is not a punishment.

They cannot understand,
That something indifferent,
Without intent or thought,
Has begun to end their life.

How cruel…

All I can do is hold their hand,

Give them medications to dull the pain,

And wish that you could understand:

You didn't do anything wrong.

An image tells not of the experience.
A tree in the forest
With the proper exposure
Can draw people to stare,
But the point is missed.

The ones staring
Are in awe
Of someone else’s experience,
And are too comfortable,
In their current state-of-mind,
To face nature’s posture for
Themselves.

We’d rather just live secondhand,
Than live in the moment,
But an image tells not of the experience.

How does it feel to stand alone?

With nothing but a stem
And a bud unbloomed,
You are cast in shadow
By the mist
Of the tall trees
That outshine you.

The sun finds them,
Doesn’t even acknowledge you,
Even though those trees
Are the reason for the shade
In which you uphold your residence.

It wasn’t something that was wished
It was given,
But not all presents received
Have much thought,
But the mind accepts them
Because it’s better than receiving nothing.

Gifts of putting you down
In an attempt to make it harder for you to grow,
Wanting you to be exactly what they want,
And never what you deserve to be.

Animalistic men pry and **** you
To drag you into the dirt
With the rest,
Because we are all slaves to attention,
And I’m ashamed to tell you,
Sometimes that’s all you’ll get.

But you should know,
You aren’t like them;
Trying to grow tall,
So that the sun can see you
Isn’t what you need,
It’s what they made you believe.

You are a flower,
Soft and sweet,
Juxtaposing the rough
Trees that try to outshine,
But they know deep down,
They aren’t made like you.

A flower
Doesn’t need the sunshine
To illuminate the darkness around
And to warm the ground enough
That not even the snow falling from their branches
Could make it wilt.

And you are one such flower,
If you decide to be,
But I wonder how it feels to stand betwixt
Such an undeserving crowd--
I wonder how it feels to stand alone,
And I question whether you’ll be so bold
Or if you’ll hide your wonderful bloom
From the world;

I hope you’ll find
The self-acceptance and trust within
To show them what you are made of
Because what you deserve is better
Than what is given.

Two people met,
Took a chance,
Fell in love,
Had children.

This cycle repeated,
From the origins of the human species,
Until it was my parents’ turn,
And they had me on a day of a year,
In a hospital in a town,

They left that town,
Left the next,
And the next,
Just happened to end up
Somewhere that I’d learn
About the college I go to now.

I met people along the way,
With each random collision,
I was shaped into who I am today.

Who would I be,
If i was born just a day sooner or later?
In the next town over?
Into the family in the other hospital room?
Met just one fewer person along the way?

Would I still have met you?

There’s billions of people on this small blue planet,
What’s so special about one grain of sand,
On a beach with trillions indistinguishable?

I believe in no intention behind it,
But so many things happened,
To lead that grain of sand,
Being where it was,
To be picked up by you.

So on this planet of billions,
When I think about how lucky I’d need to be to meet you,
And how even luckier I am to be called yours,
I can’t help but be crushed by the weight of our improbability,
And feel all the luck that put you in my arms.