#poetryislove
I’ve lived in your heart for a minute now.
And though I love it here,
the faucet leaks,
the door doesn’t shut right
sometimes I have to hold a hand to it
just to lock it back.
When you drink, the space between your ribs
tightens, and your liver expands.
The neighbors aren’t so bad.
They keep to themselves.
When they see me, we talk about
how high the rent is,
how much we don’t get in return for the association fees,
how often we wake up to notices on our door
about late payments
always knocking like the police.
For this reason, I don’t attend any of the meetings.
But I don’t want to leave.
I’ve lived in your heart for a minute now
long enough to sleep through the creaks
when it settles,
long enough to know that home is where my heart is.
Forever isn’t a day here.
It stretches into the way you snore
when you think no one is listening
probably my favorite sound
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 12:18 AM UTC
You live between the space
of my fingers,
the caress between my lips.
I only remember when I forget.
Like last night
I thought of you, and it felt like
you were there.
Suddenly, my hands felt like yours
Were there.
Creep is such a bad word,
But there is no other way
to describe it.
I swear I was not thinking about you
only to realize that I was.
And then, I felt the familiar weight of your presence.
You live between the space of my thoughts,
somewhere that's not a dream
but also not just a memory.
When I close my eyes,
you are there,
and I question if you're thinking of me.
Every time I think
and I realize it—
you disappear.
But the weight
the weight of you
I'll never forget.
I only remember when I forget
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 12:16 AM UTC
She walks in, her eyes like soft pencil lines.
She smiles when she looks at the waitress,
ordering a coffee.
I sip mine slow, looking out the diner window.
“You always draw this late?” she asks.
Only when I can’t sleep. Or when I’m hungry.
Just depends on which one happens first.
She rolls her eyes.
Falling feels like a good pen that suddenly runs out of ink.
Normally, when I draw, I’m in my own little world.
No conversation. Just my graphite and my sketchpad.
Of all the beautiful colors that life can arrange,
I admit—I’m intrigued by this woman.
I completely put my pencil down and let my coffee get cold.
But that’s how fast inspiration strikes.
This grayscale drawing, splashed with the rainbow that is her.
Although I’m listening, I keep my head down,
pretending I’m still drawing the picture I was working on
when she first walked in.
She sits two booths away, hesitating before asking,
“Can you draw me?”
I look up immediately.
“You’d have to come closer.”
I catch the reflection of the city in her eyes—
the blinking sign outside, the brake lights from the cars.
I flip the page and start tracing lines on my sketchpad.
She tilts her head, watching my progress.
I ask the waitress for a refill.
“Do you ever draw people you don’t know?”
I look at her, smile, and say, “No.”
At some point, we see everyone before we really meet them.
In a way, it wasn’t a lie.
I have seen her somewhere before.
Or at least, I’ve thought of meeting someone
who looks the way she looks.
But then again, art is subjective.
She watches me over the rim of her mug as she sips her coffee.
She leans forward.
“What do you see when you look at me?”
The most beautiful things happen at unexpected moments.
Normally, when someone asks a question like that,
if you answer too fast, it’s a lie.
If you take too long, it’s a lie.
Before I knew it, I told her:
“Someone that talks to strangers when she’s bored.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Let me see.”
I show her the sketch,
point at it, and imitate her voice.
“Can you draw me?”
It’s not exactly polished.
She studies the rough graphite,
scratched to life between the pores of the page.
She rests her elbows on the table.
Before she answers, I speak first.
“I think about what things can be, versus what’s presented to us.
If we tell each other something deep about ourselves—
a strong 7.5 out of 10—it’s going to be either forgettable
or full of **** Either way, we’re both hoping
not to regret opening up
to someone who’s just going to nod and smile.”
She smirks.
“If I told you I love the progress on the picture so far, what then?”
I shrug.
“I’d still think you’re full of ****
But you’re kind of cute.”
Falling feels like a good pen that suddenly runs out of ink.
To be honest, I don’t think it’s the uncertainty of where I’d land.
I haven’t exactly lived my life by the advice I give other people.
I never really think about the end of things.
Whatever I do, I just go with it and expect the best.
I think about it, of course.
But eventually, the ink runs out.
That’s just life.
Although I’m drawing her physically,
in my mind, I’ve drawn the curve of her neck twice over.
The thought of drawing someone else
doesn’t even come to mind
Mar 14, 2025
Mar 14, 2025 at 12:24 AM UTC
When I made it to work,
I thought about you
getting through the day,
pushing time forward
until it was finally time to go.
I had no idea what I wanted to eat
until the thought of splitting you open,
watching you sit in the depth of my fork,
did it for me.
A scoop of fried rice,
mixed with gravy
there is something so satisfying
about that first bite,
about savoring the moment,
readying the next forkful.
There’s nothing wrong
with wanting something
that wants you back.
If I spill any part of you
on my clothes,
on my hand,
on the table
I still want you.
I will still have you.
There’s nothing wrong
with burgers, burritos,
or any of the other places I pass.
But in this very moment,
the way these eggs, bean sprouts,
and green onions wrap around my tongue
nothing else compares.
Pressing my fork into your crisp edges,
watching the steam rise
I, um,
should’ve ordered extra
Mar 11, 2025
Mar 11, 2025 at 8:28 PM UTC
I know you, Moon
Shining pieces of light
that are not your own.
As beautiful as you are,
as full as you look,
there are pieces of yourself
that you hide in the dark
the empty patches
left by those who took
but never gave.
If I could, I'd
climb
up
next to you
and offer you a
piece
of myself,
to make you feel whole.
I, too, know
what it's like
to
hide
pieces
of
yourself.
At least with you,
that piece will be called beautiful,
and no one will know the difference
except for you and me.
I know you, Moon
Mar 8, 2025
Mar 8, 2025 at 2:22 AM UTC
Falling asleep in your heart
is like déjà vu.
a place I’ve never been,
but it feels familiar at the same time.
I don’t mean to creep you out,
but I know every nook and cranny.
I didn’t mean to fall asleep,
but of all the places I could have,
I’m glad that I did here.
Your heartbeat,
the pulse that cracks
and settles like a house,
although not mine,
it feels like home,
like somewhere I belong.
I normally don’t fall asleep
in places I haven’t been.
It takes a while to get accustomed,
especially if it’s my first time there.
Although it’s déjà vu,
and it could be one of those things,
I’m already looking forward
to the next time
falling asleep somewhere in you,
somewhere warm,
somewhere I belong
Feb 7, 2025
Feb 7, 2025 at 10:29 PM UTC
When I am around you,
I feel heavy.
Everything that normally bothers me
isn't a concern anymore.
Not that it's not there,
it just softens
a whole lot.
In fact, everything softens
when I am around you.
In time, even blankets can warm
the coldest of beds,
and that's what you are to me;
a blanket so thick,
you just fall into it and sink,
You drape across me.
Your breath filling the air of my ears,
warm, soft
one of the best blankets I've been
wrapped up in my whole life.
After a few minutes, I am asleep
inside you.
My bones, my worries,
everything fades away.
Your warmth, my everything
Dec 18, 2024
Dec 18, 2024 at 3:21 AM UTC
My bones ache from all
the cleaning I've done.
I've cleaned up all the dust
and finally hit the floorboards that
I always tell myself that I’m going to clean.
The patches in my life that always seem to be going right, until I look closer.
I've picked up and sorted through
all the clothes I've let pile up
on the couch.
The clothes that have waited
for someone to come in and take
the place of.
I've cleaned between the cracks
of the tiles in the kitchen
and scrubbed down the walls
Of my heart.
Although I am tired, I still keep going.
I haven't felt
this way in a long time.
I feel alive,
making room in my heart for someone new.
I've gotten rid of
all the things that I thought
held meaning in my life.
The ghost of the person I thought
I was, now in the trash.
I hear him screaming,
waving his hands around, asking hey what happened.
I am making room for you in my heart
with every intention
of hoping that you'll stay.
Or at the very least, leave a part of you
With me.
I've cleaned between the cracks
of the tiles in the kitchen
and scrubbed down all the walls,
Even the parts behind the furniture.
I am ready, whenever you are
comfortable enough to move in.
I'll even help unpack
Nov 23, 2024
Nov 23, 2024 at 3:59 PM UTC
Although ugly,
Something beautiful happens.
The air suddenly gets thick.
Your hand ***** up and flies
up to your mouth.
Lungs ache, just as we do.
They cling to breath as if
It's the last thing they have.
I cough, and my whole body heaves.
Just like you when I am behind you
My eyes tighten, and after a moment,
It's over.
A wet kiss turned inside out,
Bottled up and forced out.
An act of surrender,
Forced out in urgency.
A noise that signals sickness,
But at the same time
Searches for a fresh breath.
At times, a cough can be sickening,
Sometimes nasty.
But when everything rattles loose,
And that ache is gone.
Sometimes,
That's the best kind of love
Nov 20, 2024
Nov 20, 2024 at 2:05 AM UTC
Your memories are a poem
Presented to me at the end of the bar.
Alone & fleeting; an escape from reality.
Wanting to take part in the meeting
Of strangers; A variety of faces exchanging
****** temptation disguised as liquid courage.
Chased by the thought of not being alone
Your memories are a poem
Refilled soon as it's emptied. Wished away,
Wanting to be pursued
In exchange for monetary currency.
Bad ideas that roam the ideology of good,
You fill me, I feel you.
I stand & I stumble around the thought of you.
You start to leave me soon as I start to feel you
Dec 31, 2021
Dec 31, 2021 at 4:36 AM UTC
My fingers are a boat,
Navigating the river of your skin.
Through the bog & long blades of grass,
I picked for you a bush of roses.
In the hopes of making you smile,
Wandering away with thoughts of you.
The kind of peace brought soon
as I see your face.
Though the sun has yet to rise
I’ve sunk down in the pores of your skin.
Searching for the best flowers I can find.
Day after day
Night after night.
I’ve dived & I’ve sunk
Curious of what I’ll find,
At times I didn’t want to leave.
My fingers free to roam the curves
Of your body with nothing to tie them down.
Your body a wave gentle & smooth,
Guiding me to where I sought
In mind body & spirit.
Through the bog & long blades of grass.
I placed all the flowers I found in your heart.
Wild & free
Tomorrow, I’ll return to do the same
To watch the sunrise of your cheeks
Nov 29, 2021
Nov 29, 2021 at 10:46 AM UTC
It's been so many nights
I've scrolled down my contact list
& Highlighted your name.
So many nights you've crossed
My mind and never left.
Wherever you call home
Wherever I call home.
Places I thought we'd never go
Desperate finding our way back.
You're name a direct reflection
Of the sun,
My finger an eclipse.
Unknown to the philosophers
And professors who study science.
It's been so many nights
I've scrolled down my contact list
& Your name has shone bright
Like some shooting star
Searching for something it's lost.
Knowing our history
You'd have to be there to have
Seen it.
Without first contact,
I miss you every time
Nov 5, 2021
Nov 5, 2021 at 12:19 AM UTC
I've never had anyone look
At me the way that you do.
The first time I saw it, I tried
To catch it but missed.
Much like a shooting star
Fast & fleeting.
I remember the look on your face,
The pieces of gold shone by the light.
Your eyes, they do something to me
In my collective thought.
They break down an insane amount
Of answers to questions I've never
Thought to think.
I've never had much luck when it
comes to money, but I can imagine
the amount of fear that makes
someone insane off the thought of losing it.
Today, tomorrow, always.
To look up and see your eyes,
A not so hidden pleasure
Fast & fleeting.
Out in the open and still somehow
manage to miss it.
The second, third, as well as fourth
I plan to catch
Oct 21, 2021
Oct 21, 2021 at 5:15 PM UTC
Now I am certain of nothing
But your existence, in chaotic disbelief.
The scurry of feet patter down the path
Of the avenue & city blocks downtown.
As beautiful as you are dangerous,
Now open to the world around you.
A fiery ship intentionally dragging it’s
Anchor in obsession.
Not knowing how or when to stop.
The smog of smoke eases its way down.
We all were told to evacuate.
What is this place?
What is this promise made anew?
Some days are better than others,
The stars blend in with the search lights.
At times it’s hard to tell which is which.
I stand in both shock & awe.
It looks like the sky has split open,
The closest I’ll ever get to the sun
Not knowing how, or when to stop
You’ve always been familiar to me
Oct 21, 2021
Oct 21, 2021 at 12:52 AM UTC
My bed may not be as large
As California or have a blanket
As deep as the ocean.
But it’s comfy and shares
The same view as if we were there.
When I am asleep with you,
Everything becomes ideal.
One of the best feelings the universe
Could bestow.
To discover a slice of heaven beside you.
A spoon finding it’s way
To the big dipper, in the same
Lineage of how I see you.
We stargaze with our eyes closed,
Watching the stars bloom like flowers
In complete comfort.
The urge to explore further,
A simple look, a simple smirk
Head nestled deep in a pillow.
The aspirations of becoming an astronaut
Become that much clearer.
I blast off & everything becomes dark
My reflection staring at yours beneath mine,
Until I see your face spread wide
Across the moon.
Happy and safe,
My voyage is now complete
Oct 19, 2021
Oct 19, 2021 at 2:41 PM UTC
I feel most at home
When I am beside you.
I am able to breathe freely & abundantly.
You speak kindly to my soul,
& nurture the points of direction
Which I grow.
My sanctuary of peace,
My birds eye view of serenity.
I feel most at home
When I am in view of your garden.
Offering the utmost
Of warmth & affection.
Make no mistake,
I am not there to simply pass time
Nor am I there out of the convenience
Of you.
Being around you takes me
to another world
& I am glad to share in the experience
Of you.
I am in awe at how you transform me
Into a moth, in terms of light.
I’ll follow you anywhere
Aug 17, 2021
Aug 17, 2021 at 1:00 PM UTC
Blow a kiss & show me
What true liberation and
Desire look like, I deserve it
& when I see you, I am coming
With you. With nothing but
Excitement and the best intention.
I would love nothing more than that.
It doesn’t matter the list of places.
The first, second, or third destination.
I’d really just like to go hallucinate
With you In the wilderness.
A language that needs no translation.
No matter where we stand, mentally
We are where we want to be.
Prosperous in each other.
The earth tucked beneath a blanket,
eventually we’ll have to get up
but until then blow a few kisses
& take me with you.
A naked soul free, exploring a dream.
One of the first things that come to mind
Your face on front of a post card.
This memory snuggled up close
In infinity.
Without having to imagine or dream
Where we’ve already been.
Together by the lake,
The mountains nestled low,
One head snuggled into another.
The campfire barely visible, piled in a mess
Together.
Realizing that there’s nothing more perfect
Realizing that we are a dream within a dream.
Realizing that only we can make this a reality.
I want this so bad.
No matter where we stand, mentally.
We are where we want to be.
Each other’s everywhere & everything
in between.
Jul 20, 2021
Jul 20, 2021 at 8:31 AM UTC
If there is one thing that couldn’t
Be further from the truth,
Nothing in this life is free.
To do better in chase of sanity.
One of the greatest forms of currency,
In a world of chaos everything
Has a cost.
No matter the need or want,
Yet I am ever so appreciative.
To be housed, clothed & fed with working
Lights and water.
Stability, an antidepressant in a world
You wake up & do the same thing over
& over.
If there is one thing that couldn’t
Be further from the truth.
Nothing in this life is free, & I
Ever so appreciative.
I’d gladly pay weekly, biweekly,
even monthly.
I feel that much closer to liberation
Under the roof of your smile,
A sense of privacy unlike any other.
Your lips the doorbell to inner peace.
Your hands a meal to feed thousands
At a time.
Although nothing is free,
I am ever so appreciative that a smile
Doesn’t cost a thing.
I couldn’t think of a better representation,
A better place to be
Jul 12, 2021
Jul 12, 2021 at 11:29 AM UTC
& when I rush to get home,
Before I lay my keys down.
You’ll put your arms around me
& fill me with so much joy.
You give me a feeling that’s both
Happy & ecstatic.
I don’t want to have to miss you
Then wait forever to kiss you.
The sort of thing that happens
When least expected.
It’s always easier than it sounds.
But seeing you smile always
Puts things in perfect perspective.
When I rush to get home
I’ll yell out that I am here &
When I do, my mind will ask my heart
Why am I so loud.
When it does I’ll reply that I’ve
Filled all the empty space
Around with pieces of her.
& when I yell out I am easily reminded,
Before she is seen
Before she is heard.
That she is completely safe.
That she is comprised of all the small things
That make life worthwhile.
The smallest patter of feet &
Being attacked by the gentlest thing
Such as a hug.
It really is easy to take for granted
When I rush to get home,
I am going to crawl into the bed
Of her arms & sleep for as long
As she allows me to
Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 11:12 PM UTC
I still miss you.
Sometimes I wonder if you miss me
As much as I dream that you do.
If I am even a second thought, if you miss
Anything about me period.
I don’t think I’ve ever squeezed you as tight as I do than when I dream.
When I am sleep, everything feels real.
The feel of your skin.
The way the small of your back raises
When you breathe.
Your hair a mess, barely holding on to the pillow.
Apparently dreams are the guest house to prayers.
Missing you hurts like hell, lying awake
In angst, not being able to enjoy the moment In full.
I don’t think I’ve ever squeezed you as tight as I do than when I dream,
Your head in the cease of my arm.
I am not ready to wake up yet,
I am not ready for you to go.
Not ready for you to disappear.
When I dream,
Every word we say is silent
& your heart beats next to mine.
You snuggle up close to me &
Everything in you just releases.
Just let me sleep a while longer,
I still feel safe when you’re around
I still miss you when you’re not around
Jun 29, 2021
Jun 29, 2021 at 11:19 AM UTC
She sprawled out across the sky, bored,
Perfectly sun-kissed.
From a distance she could fit
In my hands.
Day, the name we hold dearest
Day, the name of the memory I placed
her above all else.
I too, lay sprawled out, beneath her.
The intensity of how she makes me
feel,
A region I know well, sweltered &
swollen,
Without walls or halls to contain the
effect she has on me.
She took my hand & gave me the gift of
her presence.
My heart but a burning bush from this
intense percussion, this rapid sensation spreading steadily, rapidly.
A giant in my eyes.
I've climbed the highest building &
collapsed beneath her.
Black & wilted,
I am the wick without promise of
tomorrow
Jun 29, 2021
Jun 29, 2021 at 11:14 AM UTC
The best days of my life
Where’d you go?
Time flies trying to fit in
As much as you can.
Sleep barely comes
Running round losing track
Of time.
No one to tell you to stop,
Kind of loud
Kind of subtle.
The best days of my life.
Staying up all night
Not a care in the world.
Where’d you go?
The best of everything,
So little time.
Trying to fit in as much
As you can.
They tell you that these
Are the best,
You never realize until
It’s gone.
Memories of when we met
Memories of when we spent
The night.
The things we got caught doing,
But no one said a word.
Sleep barely comes
Lost somewhere having fun.
The best days of my life,
Where’d you go?
Jun 29, 2021
Jun 29, 2021 at 10:48 AM UTC
For me, writing is
Expressing anything and everything in my own way....
With my heart and soul....
Without any manipulation....
Like the sun came up every morning with a new energy and his ray....
Aug 12, 2020
Aug 12, 2020 at 7:46 AM UTC
How hard it is,
To find peace.
Simple, as much as,
Feeling the fresh breeze.
Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 3:09 AM UTC