the water has been calm for months,
not a wake has wandered from within this body
and still
something is amiss
i miss
you.

and not in some deeply important
or wildly romantic reminiscence
but in a way that makes my throat dry,
my hands hurt,
my eyes water.

it is not that we are cold,
but there is an absence of heat
and by that i mean passion
time is passing
and the water is rising
so why was it surprising
to see the tide?

Satan wears no horns,
nor does he boast a tail or pitchfork.
He wears soft lips
and freckles in his eye.
You share coffee with him
and your secrets, too.
The devil is the easiest creature
to fall in love with.
I once fell victim
to his sweet forked tongue.
He made a home in my heart;
painted the walls
and planted a garden.
He broke all the plates,
all the flowers died,
and he blamed the destruction on me.
(p.)

you make everything so ******* complicated.
you make me want to stab myself
in good ways and bad ways;
if there's even a difference.
I don't know what you want from me.
I think you don't want anything,
but then I think you want things
that I can't give you.

I've done enough of thinking
that I mean something to people,
because that's never the case.
I was mad at you,
but then I was mad at myself
for even caring what you thought of me.
I've done enough of caring about
things that I don't understand
so I've been trying to understand you,
but you make everything so
******* complicated.

a.d.

I woke beside
a pitch black crust
like the dust
permeating veins.

I sat upon colidascope concrete
until morning
brought birds
to carry my neck
back to you.

I collapsed onto the shore
and cried all night
because I finally outran my shadow
and the seaside
refused to share.

I pounded my fists
into the sockets
holding your eyes.
They're missing,
stolen perhaps
by another set of cheekbones.

I scraped the sky
with nails like coal,
leaving streaks of blood
across east Ohio.

I sat on the ceiling
as the fingertips of July
stretched my mind
away from fire.

Does she rub your shoulders?
I hope she does.
I really do.

Your heart is so genuine but
I feel like you aren't letting it
talk as much as much as it
needs to. I wasn't ready for
the sensitivity training that
comes with knowing your
insides but I like it and I
know I touch you a lot but
that's only because sometimes
I need to remember that I have
you. So please stop burrowing
into your blanket and come
burrow into me instead. I
promise I'm warmer and I
promise I smell better (although
your side of the bed is a
smell I could stay in forever)
and I swear I'll rub those
little circles into your hand
the way you like. Just please
let me be near you.