i dont believe in
soul mates. i dont believe in
soul. just blood and ice

it has been
a long day.
and i am ready
to grieve.

it will rain in toronto
it will rain in new york.
we can feel it
in our hearts
we can
drown together,

i am drunk and clumsy
but full of
hope for the future
and disdain for the present.

it is no gift
if its gone
by the time i
soak it in.

i should feel blessed
to have things to miss.

i only feel lucky,
and rather empty

to have something
to miss
is to have something
to lose.

i am stubborn.
i am a sore loser.

i will circle dates
like a child to chirstmas
for Orion,
and for May.

so until we feel
the sun and its heat.
i bid you adieu
and my love from afar.

i will spend the week
in hourglass torture.
listening to seconds
go bye.
i cant save them
they live as quickly
as they die.

there is no tragedy
in seconds.
no funeral procession
for time lost.
just memories and
blank space.
the bitter blade
of nostalgia just
sharp enough to
pierce weak skin.

there is no excuse
for lost time.
just a .44 pointed
straight at a mirror.
one victim.
one criminal.
i am as guilty
as i am innocent.
so i am really nothing.

just a quarter
in a crisis.

the king of
neglect.

let us reconcile
in the moment,
for a moment.
the tiniest
of tensions are so
malleable to the parts of
me that know im
not worthy.

i fixate on a star
to the point that
if i stare long enough
i dont see the others
and it will dance
through a clear sky
like it could breath.

no one is ready for
my sweater. i work to
give but have yet to
pull sword from stone.
either i am not worthy
or i am not ready, but
defeat always feels
the same.

i see a real miracle
over and over.
things have never felt
so futile.
a star will crash
into the earth
and i will never
hold a sword.

god must be broken
if were made in his image.
i crack the mirror.