Alive
Too young to care
Busy with living loud
Born on the wind, my youth flew by
Quickly.

I think I'm cooked,
I feel the ache I longed for.
I'm restless, but I think
I got what I wanted.

I keep checking
and I keep thinking
about you and how you
might be thinking about me.

I don't think there's a future.
I don't think this will be
anything but the ache.
But I guess I never wanted more.

i'm scared that you'd do what you always do
get me on the fence
feigned proclamations of love
that i believe
your little dove

let you come back
just for you to say
'its only for a minute'
and before i can protest
you use me and disappear
leaving only fear, so clear.

why do u fill the gaping darkness inside of me so perfectly
maybe then i'd learn that its all an illusion, certainly.

I try very hard to be good.
At everything.

But often I just want to be happy.
Happiness often feels like the string of a balloon slipping from my fingers.
So close to being captured as I watch it flutter away into the sky.

you knew I was lost,
you took advantage of that.

i had to accept your touch
i had to understand your desire
and your hand on my body
left a mark

i broke into pieces,
with your touch that I can't wash away
and with your face,
which I cannot forget


now am silenced
for the rest of my days

I only just realized
what joy can be—
It is a small thing,
I think,

In the back office
at the bank,
If you leave the chair canted
towards the south window,
the sun will warm the small
blue seat around 11:45

It has always been
such an inconsequential thing to me
always out of reach—

But it’s there,
A quarter before noon
every day.