if drugs are so freeing then why are all my friends confined
bedrooms, bathrooms, back rooms
falling from grace in privacy

tv tells a story of an all-at-once catastrophe
but addiction looks different close up

i've made a home
out of untied shoelaces
in the morning
and crowded bedrooms
filled with smoke
and laughter

Lately, I’ve been dating myself:
Beaches,
Bars,
Bookstores,
& Bedrooms…
Self care superseded structure,
I’m the happiest spinster,
Because for once,
I’m myself.

his sheets felt like the ocean on my skin
so i forced his head head under the surface
while i counted his eyelashes.

his hands looked like paper lace
so i grabbed his fingers tighter
and brought them to my lips.

his shoulders smell like the floor of a forest of pine trees
so i laid my head on his chest
roped my fingers through his hair
while the lights flickered in his basement

i wonder who let him hold the keys to his own chest
or the cradle for his own mind
his structure of patience is beyond architecture
and his touch of my spine is beyond medicine

You are every song
I wished I could sing
But I'm out of breath

I am in love with you in the way that
you are my insomnia at 4 in the morning,
the one keeping me awake because my
body doesn't remember how to fall asleep without
yours quietly curled around it,
and my brain doesn't understand
why I irrevocably hate you,
or how I can hate and love one person
so much it makes my stomach hurt,
every moment I'm not with you I think
that the distance might **** me
because the sleepless nights and empty beds
breeding incomprehensible hatred
are just because I am
so
*******
in love with you.

you've always been my favorite author
it's not that you're a great writer
or knew how to write poems
its that you are what all my poems are about
how could I think of beautiful things to say
and heartaches to endure
if it weren't for you?
you are the words that my ink forms into
you are the mascara running down my cheek
you've always been my favorite author
for you are what my life story is about
in the middle of the night