Published Work

Feels 

Emotions

I don't drip from the faucet,
I pour. 

I'm an overflowing sink,

That drains the life out of others,

I'm sipped when conversations run dry. 

I'd rather be seasoned and warmed up, 

So I could soothe sore throats. 

I envision a waterfall of freedom, 

Blinded by a mist, 

A peaceful sound drowned out by a welcomed silence. 

Calm without chaos, 

Tame and scenic, 

Free from all restraints and judgement. 

Want

I crave an unconditional love I cannot give myself. 

I lack genuine happiness I have never known. 

I dig through dirt-rusty remains where I can't even come across bones. 

I wonder where it all went wrong, 

I've repressed the known. 

The coffin is buried deeper than I remember.
I need to open it, 

Confront what I cannot comprehend.

I'm Suffocating, 

I demand to breathe. 

Anxious 

I sit in between the sheets of perfectly fine and not okay
They cradle my arms and fold over my shoulders.
I lay on blankets of band thoughts on repeat,
It's a record I'be had since I can remember
And I can't return it.
Like a bicycle wheel, or a God damn yo-yo.
They come back around again and again,
On the same Ferris wheel one more time.

I close my eyes.
It is a darkened space,
Wide and infinite
I begin to run.
My breath staccato.
My pulse throbs into numbness,
My chest a burning building,
Collapsing lungs ache with every half sigh.
I can't slow down.
I don't know where I'm running too.
I don't recall what I'm running from.
The smoke creates these tears.

When my eyes open the fighting starts.

Not Blood

The rivers in your body that pulse with adrenaline, like worms under flesh throbbing with tiny heart beats. The pulse is rushing, flowing begging for me to dive in. To splash around and bathe myself deep in its stream. 

Your wet hair, dripping crimson oil paint that shines like rubies. They're at the bottom of a treasure chest that waits to be found. The lighting fluorescent as if we're outside all the blackened windows. The softness of the follicles between my fingers, the long strands glistening in our artificial sunlight. 

Matching your lips like the metallic lick of nickel that I long to taste. It's like a fountain or a hidden waterfall filled with minerals that might quench my thirst. Waiting to be bottled up and savored forever.

My Knife becomes a pen. The ink marks temporary scars that soak into your skin and stains my hands. It dries up into crusty plates on your Earthly body that I want to explore. 

Your hand, has traces of roads blending blues and greens faded in your arm. It's a map to an underground pipeline of streaming rusty fluid. 

Raindrops splatter within our confined space, they start to look like stars from a negative strip of film, Needing to be poured into a wine glass so the vibrant scarlet is captured properly. Even though a picture could not do it justice. 

It's a spontaneous adventure we take together, the outcome of warm silky fluid flowing like bed sheets. The motion is soothing and calming, a chaotic mess of lust. Sending chills down your spineless back, and frozen body. 

Contrasting against your inner pearl completion of a marble statue. Carved perfectly embraced by pink pillows all around that cradle the liquid sweater inside out, knitted from within bones. It gushes out of your heart and boils in my palms until it runs cold and the puddle starts to drain.
I can't give it back to you so I keep it, like a secret. 

Thoughts I've had, Feelings I Feel

The Call of The Void

If I'm not jumping off a cliff, 

I'm bleeding from a car crash.
If I'm not drowning in some body of water, 

I'm running towards ongoing traffic.
If I'm not stabbed,
I'm chewing on shards of glass.
I shove my friends face into a nest of bees,
Cut off the hands of my coworkers.
this is how I self inflict

onto others. 

A daily daydream of death. 

Window

It's the same scene from when i was younger.
The seasons keep changing.
The screen is gone,
because it ruined the view.
I'll never understand why the moon looks so much brighter,
Why the greens are vivid,
The sun hotter,
Why this opening of my childhood neighborhood,
Is one I love so much.

 Filth

I stripped down my layers of shy.
I sat by the window, 

I thought, 

If the world could see I didn't care, 

She would respect me. 

She did. 

You did not. 

I washed my face, 

Dried my hair,
Rinsed my pallet
Of daily torture.
I wanted to be clean.
You made me dirty. 

When 

You're a window that refuses to open, stubborn and calm.
You're alone.
Stranded in a sea of hurt you won't let me understand.
You're confined to your broken memories

trying to put the pieces together in an impossible puzzle.
I want to swim alongside you.
Take you to the shore and help you heal.
You are not the poison you think you are.
You are the heartache that writers dream about,

The stones that make a garden peaceful,

A sepia light that glows with warmth.
You're a forest fire at its deadliest peak
burning fallen bended branches.

The self doubt that swallows you,

suffocates and tortures you.

We can find the exit sign that hangs above the door of new beginnings.

Let me in,

Take my hand

I'll guide you out. 

Anticipation

I panic at the vowels in your name.
When your lips shape mine,

And I hear your vocal chords strain.
Pulsate.

Breathe me in,

Exhale my love,

Because you don't want it.