Like a thorn inside her logic
There is no reason
Still, she goes on missing you

Abusing the imagination
She inserts herself inside of old memories,
Like a doll inside a dollhouse.
So she can play again.

The thorn is aware,
That life is supposed to be lived
With or without you.
But the fate of no longer having you
to call upon,
or to even call at all,
Digs the thorn in deeper
deeper than any professional could remove.
And so she carries on,


Visiting your old school several years later

and seeing the kids that occupy it in this futuristic present moment

it’s like watching an ex lover take in someone new

“you will never know what our affair was like”

i think

Train of thoughts


To think I’d seen the light.
When the light was within me.
To think blame would take the pain away,
remove everyone around me
My thoughts prompt a result unstoppable
I have fallen victim to my own cries.
A decade later, I am still swimming the same seas in hopes to make it to shore.
With dreams reoccurring to teach me
What is my lesson, and why does it seem illegible to read?
the same faces come to me while I am dancing on a melatonin high

I just want to be who I thought I would grow into being.
For now, there may be rhyme,
but no reason.

when i don't mean what I say
and my secrets mean nothing to the stars 
i slip myself out of your pockets;
rid myself from the burning capture of your looking glass
squinting eyes attempt to see the full picture
while my tired, achy feet glide barefoot across the floor beneath me

what is the distant memory 
further locked in mind over time?
a lazy-susan, mental prison that won't stop spinning
grips me dizzy,
loves me madly
Will i always be so thirsty?
Will i always be so distant from everyone who tries to love me?
Will my brain retrain my heart to stay intact?

what did life feel like at 3 feet tall,
with hands too small to fracture?
what will the sky taste like the moment I realize why it is I'm here?


It was fathers day
a weak kneed holiday
drizzled on the calendars like a storm warning
All I could do was promise
that there was life after July
the desperation within my lies on fire

there was still so much music we hadn’t heard
so many places our first-class tickets had yet to expose
but with death knocking down our front door
time started to leak from our faulty kitchen sink.

the yard needed trimming
we sat side-by-side against a sorbet sky
dissecting the life we had just began living
your prescription pills provided goodnight kisses to sleepy lashes
I was swimming through a summer high



Apologies from inside of me

I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough
But the cut runs deep on unconscious memory
It might not be enough to entitle me 
to speak publicly
When even law enforcement refused to believe me
Still they took evidence
Stripped my bed of the sheets he was never welcomed in
friends had no sympathy
Instead they ran my mental faucet on 
Until my mind was flooded with mistake
still no memory

I never received an apology,
from the boy I sought friendship from
I was a kite blinded by my own sun
But maybe boys are not meant to be our friends
Maybe the division between us that began in grade school is not far removed from where we are today

All I know is that I want to avoid all of them
When they smile at me it’s as if you’re sharpening their knives and forks against my skin
And my heart races,
knowing all they crave is to taste the day they can take a bite of me
There have been so many,
who disregarded all the hard work I have put in
To cease the tears,
to trust again.

I hope this get easier
I hope I can find fresh air inside an elevator alone with a man i don’t know
Like a normal person
Because until then,
it is like an endless chase
where I cant seem to run further away from the distress
until misogyny is put to rest

let’s go back to being strangers
where we don’t stand too close to each other’s shadow
you can ask how I feel about the weather
or play my favorite song– curious which piece resonates with me,
without truly knowing

Lets forget the spelling our each others last names
like I haven’t imagined your name encompassing mine in matrimony
until the blood runs dry
and you cant hear me weeping

your hands have not been taught to hold delicately
which is where I find myself
forced to fall asleep, without touch
against your cactus garden