Child

Tonight, I am twenty-four.
I am still falling.

To bruise and to claim

I gave you my consent
to fill the empty spaces
between my fingers,
my parted lips,
the strands of my hair…

And now, I tread to bed,
oddly lightheaded
and imbalanced in your absence.
My fingers are fine.
My lips are fine.
My strands are fine.

I gave you my consent.
I forgot,
I had forgotten,
about my heart.

Breakwaters

Talking to you is an
ache
in the pit of my stomach.
Is this pain…
or, is this
the birth of a thousand
butterflies

Slate/Combust

I wish this drip of acid
was in my brain
Gently corroding,
atrium to
ventricle
A seeping slush of poison,
to contaminate
to contain.

We do not hold hands.

I traced new steps at an old haunt. I saw stars.

Kingdom

In my search of heaven and hell
I found naught.
But there is you,
And I,
And a realm of pleasure
Perhaps
We can find it there.

Crisp

Blue lilies on a frosted lake
The crack of dawn
A pierced finger, oozing blood
Cold gravel,
wet feet upon dewy grass
Condensation all around;
heavy light all
around

I wish the moon was still chasing my car.

But never break

I’ll keep drawing, writing, reading.
Clawing after distractions and ravaging for words through the permanent recess of this mind.

Bring me something, somewhere.