cool morning
     garbage truck sings
to a steel wool sky

(In my mind
she's gonna live forever)

(She's gonna live forever
in my head)

I can't see her in the clouds
but I can hear her in the rain
I can't comprehend her corpse
but I can smell her flesh

Swords storming down from above
Pierce my hands
Pierce my eyes
Pierce my heart

But try to avoid my brain
The part in which she's wrapped around

he talks of the weather
and i secretly hope that he speaks of anything else.

not because i am not interested
in the way the trees will sway
on a certain day,
or the amount of rain that
will come our way.

but because i am much more interested
in who he is.

i want to know why the weather fascinates him,
how the world makes him feel,
i want to know his favourite movie or book
(please let him be a reader)
and the way he takes his coffee in the morning,
and i want to hear about who inspires him the most.

i want to memorise all the smaller
more vulnerable things.
in hopes that one day we will run out of things to talk about,
and then we might turn and say,
“the weather is meant to be nice today.”

     Chilly August night
with fog, mist, rain, and wet ghosts:
     sleepwriting haiku.

Closer in time,
Your heart is
Aching in your chest.
Fading lights
The stars wander
Out of the sky, just chance.
And inside
The warmth of
Just one more night.
From my lungs
I feel a tugging
Catching my breath.

In your sea, I am but a drop
Yet, you are my ocean.
On the field of love, I am but a rock
And you are the mountain.
I feel as sisyphus,
In love with his punishment-
But I've pushed too much.
This torture is redundant,
We get nowhere and feel as though
Further down the hill.
And yet, I love you as such
I would never cease pushing
Till my heart stops
And muscles grow still.
For what is love
To the stone heart?

Lovingly, to fall for Medusa
Onto my own sword.
For were I tasked to **** her
I should sooner forgo my life
So that she may have her own.
For I looked into the eyes of the Gorgon
With my last breath,
And when she spoke
It was clear she was no monster
But a disgraced goddess.
Never did I turn to stone.
As I lay lifeless, she wept
And offered her *****.
Every touch was like lightning,
Though I was the center of the storm;
She showed me kindness
The likes of I had never known before.
And when I was revived
I wept too.

Across arms length before myself,
Windowpane translucent amongst the light,
Glowing brightly against the sunrise,
Reflecting the flame within my might

Violet hues, vibrantly bleeding
Into a perceived heaven,
Nirvana nearly taunting,
Impartial only by the second

Cool blues amass,
Blanketing perception,
Ever expanding their reach,
Offering little connection

Dew below rises,
Heated by desire to be known,
Pulled by the gravity of ownership,
Kin only to a cyclone

Glass before myself,
Grazed by wary tears,
Uncertain of any legacy,
Panels become my mirror

Faltering into dusk,
Unsteadily steps lead on,
Dissension unmasked,
Laced starlight gazed upon

foul weather friends creep in with the clouds
misery keeps company on the inside looking out
    “i’d pull all the teeth from your open mouth
before i’d ever let you frown”
it's all gore from here on out
heavensent friends descend from the clouds
hiding fangs behind kind hands
you can hardly hide your smiles
    “i’d rather see the frown torn from your mouth,
than ever think i’d let you down”
friends from above, keeping me from looking up
i can’t ever be like them if i don’t learn to stomach blood
    “you could be happy, smiling with all your teeth -
but then why would you need me?”