when a boy shows you his hands
bare except for the dust
he’s begging you to look past
take them in yours.
squeeze them once.
twice.
say without speaking
that you understand that the valleys
in his palms were meant to cradle
shooting star wishes
that he’s allowed to still hope for.
when a boy shows you his eyes
of milk and crimson and melanin
a bloodshot vein for every night he can’t sleep
let him shut his eyelids.
say without speaking
that you understand that the black hole pinpricks
of his irises hold more than the universe
should allow.
when a boy shows you his soul
shivering but still working toward friction
iced over but still working toward melting
let him come to rest next to yours.
say without speaking
that you understand that he is lonely
and that his silence speaks volumes
and that you kept his treasure close
because you love him.
when a boy shows you his hands
show him your hands.
when a boy shows you his eyes
show him your eyes.
when a boy shows you his soul
show him that
this is a comfortable place to rest it.
when a boy shows you the hardness that shaped him
show him the softness
that you have in store.

Give me a dollar
And I'll make something of it.
Give me your time
And I'll waste it.

Staring down the red pill and the blue pill.
Trying to decide between nothing and everything.
Making sure the Dread Pirate Roberts doesn't drink his own poison.

There is no hand I would least rather die at
Than my own.

I never once kept the door closed,
Despite everything that would make you think otherwise.
My arms tremble at the thought
Of pulling all this weight again.
But I was ready.
The things you do for love
Or what you thought love was.

Nothing says emotional stability like dollar store sleeping pills.
Inertia for a brain
I let it all pile up
Until I'm buried in snow like a cokehead fever dream.

I fell asleep on the high road
Waiting for you to run me over.

If you follow all the sirens
and the red flags
you'll see what the news papers would call a man
but not really.
just a boy with a beard
pretending he knows how to put things back together
pushing the people he loves towards alcoholism
like it was all he was good for


//


I used to think love triumphed over all
But I'm starting to doubt the sincerity
of love
and all its trimmings.

Why do we romanticize love
It's not ever the fever dream we hype it up to be.
It's vulnerability in it's purest form
It's done more harm than good.

I'm selling my stocks on love

I'm done pretending I understand how the world works.
I'm done celebrating before I cross the finish line.
I'm done believing in something that I'm not sure is real.

I'm selling my stocks on love.

There is nothing more concrete than rock bottom.
I've made a home there.
Shaved off enough sand
To fashion a bed and some pillows.
I can't tell if it's Stockholm syndrome
Or I just couldn't care enough anymore
To try and swim out.

Why bother leaving
When you've made your bed.

I wonder if she remembers
The show I put on
The table where she sat
The desert she didn't care for
All the love songs I sang
And sent her way.

The waitress told me
That girl definitely likes you.
I asked how she could tell.

You can tell by the way she stares
By the way she listens.
No girl spends her Saturday night
Watching some teenager play out his Empty dreams
For no reason.

Oh how strong a bridge may seem
Without even gazing below you
To make sure there's more than nothing
Keeping you afloat.