Yes, I still miss you. I wait for you in ordinary places. Like while I am watching the steam roll out of my coffee cup, driving, at work, the beach. And even the times’ life feels too much to even grasp at the steering wheel or a toothbrush or a book spine. And even the… Continue reading What I Am Trying To Say; a poem
It came wrapping on my bones plucking my ribs cage open splitting my blood like a red sea except there was no Moses or people And it felt like there could be no God in this It came in trembling It came in like collapsing flesh Like decaying finger tips There was no… Continue reading You; a poem
The broken can recognize each other from across the room across the street across town They greet each other with a “hello” and a “good luck” in perfect agony And the mouths of the broken only know how to break. They break sentences into words And words into syllables And syllables into letters And letters… Continue reading The Broken; a poem
I hope I was your first violin hipped poet Because you were my first rainy dayed “Baby you’re beautiful.” I hope that if you find you want someone else’s finger tips pressed against your bed frame that she tastes like sun downs. Because I could never tastes like sun downs. I’ve got too much shot… Continue reading A Whisper; a poem.
I don’t feel very okay And maybe that has to do with some fairy tale of a thing. Something that couldn’t possible exist out of words and picture books. Maybe that means that you are just words and picture books. But gosh I hope not. I hope you are as real as the words I… Continue reading The Best Not Okay’s; a poem
Go ahead and claim the title. The title in which my blood granted you my blood in which all you did was spill. All this title cost you was a night of caresses and all you did with it was breed descendants that will never know your name. They will be deaf to their ancestors… Continue reading Title; a poem
I am convinced that you are dying That there is no way you can be living Maybe call it denying the strength Call it a lack of faith in you to learn to grip life but I am convinced that you are dying I saw your shattered pieces that you made into a Hansel and… Continue reading You Must Be Living; a poem