Image result for storm gifDo not call me by my name
I have nothing left to give you
that you don’t already have,
or already expect of me.

Do not listen for my footsteps
treading softly against the foundation we have built
and senselessly seem to burn.

The fire in your eyes no longer looks like home,
feeling like a wool sweater in humid weather-
i need to take you off,
but I fear  I may need you further into fall.

“Don’t abandon me” thoughts
constantly taunting,
recipe for disaster
Am I the storm?
or are we really sinking in this deeply?

Don’t tell me what to do
or where to go,
I am running from my own shadow
when all I see is you.

Stop fogging up my mirrors
with your evil grin
as cyclical as the seasons.
Give me more reasons to stay
than you already do.

Make eye contact with this soul,
as dark as the night,
with its raging appetite
for laughter,
lick the platter clean.

Can we go on like this?


The girl at the coffee shop

We were sitting across from one another
It was one of those late November mornings where the breeze from the leaves rustling in the trees awoke me
and while it was warm enough to show some skin, the chill of winter’s close return had her thighs patterned with goosebumps.
My concentration dwindled
I left my scone untouched.

Her eyes seemed to utter what we both couldn’t say
I think she liked it that way,
a bit of mystery to tease me.

We spoke in a whisper over our hot coffee,
as if someone might be overhearing.
by the time it grew cold I had memorized every one of her freckles
you could quiz me.

I couldn’t help but go crazy when she smiled at me
it was as if everything might turn out perfectly,
it was as if pain had never reached me

And here I was,
seated across from a magic peppermint stick,
and it was as if nothing had ever tasted as sweetly
as this moment


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The plot thickens
inside the teenage dream.
we drown temptation down with a cherry-stem,
burning through the stomach’s pit.
But the gut seems to know better than I do.

If only liquor could numb the sting
like it used to.
If only you could hold me
the way I wanted you to.

Which way would we falter?
In the eyes of your father, you’re a submarine
sinking deeply into what used to be.

Immerse yourself in jazz on repeat.
Encompass the decade of inebriated stories.
Taste the tears that revive 16’s manic sleep walking.

If I am dreaming
I have returned to a fallen paradise
and yet,
it all seemed to make more sense then,
than it does now.


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This struggle to make sense of what is and what should have been
Sweet reminiscent decade of a back flip era
a time now locked inside a glass jar
cautiously dragging its feet across the floor with remorse,
the voice hoarse from back-throat cries
eyes wide with wonder, arms numb from longing

Half-hazard weather post happy hour
wonder to yourself, “will I ever be that happy again?
replace the fashion statement for a noose
Lock yourself deep inside the vehicle you’ve been born into

The born-again Christians are angry with anyone that challenges their beliefs
so seldom can they see divinity inside of themselves
They thank the sky for their talents
while their mothers sheepishly shy away beneath the cloudy forecast

like a temper you cannot control
a hole inside your pockets
a leap of faith come crashing down
a disconnected phone
the echo of being home alone

This struggle,
to make sense of what is and what should of been
bleeds through your sheets,
revels in lack of sleep and hot coffee

but can we unplug?
from the madness of the mental prisons train
stay inside our lane without following the rage of traffic.
can we find a way to withstand it?

Shoot the moon while I cover my mirrors

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Red squiggly lines
form around my eyes when I’m high

on our love story

You  once asked me why I am always crying

always in tight fists over the mirrors image

i try to smile harder at the girl looking back at me until we feel like the same person again.

you tell me you love this mess

You say, there is so much to dance with
so many lives that have lived within this image

and yet she refuses to make eye contact with me.



It comes and goes in waves

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What is it about gender,
its splendor rich with novelty
binding us to a label
post uncertainty.

how intricate the self discovery can be
at 20,
how self deprecation often leads to understanding.
No more room for excuses,
chop the locks,
throw away the key
“Are you as lost as me?”

What is it about my glow in the dark heart
sending out invitations to unfamiliar friends
The tumultuous waves tire from saving everyone

She told me not to leave a trace
She swears by this,
that a woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets
and smacks my hand away from the candy dish,
too weak to reminisce.

maybe we are all twisted,
tired, drowning slowly under pressure
presumed as productivity
just looking for something to make sense.
But what could I do to explain?
how can I make sense to your senses,
when dollars and cents cannot bring us happiness?

There is a little room for waiting,
only you cant sit still.
you pace the floor boards until your soul is sore.
With shoes that remind me of my fathers,
and how I will never misplace the feeling
of being pulled under.

Guilt < indulgence

It’s hard to express,
the coconut, summertime sex
especially when you feel listless.
the deliciousness rolls off the tongue in eloquence
dessert sometimes tastes like selfishness
but this was on my wish list

and it didn’t matter who the next kiss was with
I wanted to stay focused;
Despite the mental shift
so gray.

I wanted to feel like it was my birthday,
wanted you in the worst way.

But you can’t control the thought process
Or steep the soul in alcohol like skinned knees
long enough for the past to cease its bleeding.
It was right in front of me,
Draining from the hole inside of you.

Don’t look back with regret
sip on the spinelessness.
Relish in the extraordinaire of temporary bliss
from awakened consciousness.

Physicality never felt so untouched.
But even I know,
You are never alone when you’re lonely