Monthly Archives: February 2017

I Fell in Love with the Dawn


I found what it meant to be deserving

in the whispering communion of yellow morning song.

behind the blinding curtain that would rise

for our most famous star.

each word that I would ever write was waiting there,

right beyond my grasp,

waiting for my grasp.

each heartbeat that had yet to fill up my ear

and every thread that longed to graze my face

was on the backside of the world,



through the spinning wonderment.




Growing Pains

when you come to this place,

you come in hobbling,

on wheels,

clutching your side,

lips pursed and eyes squinted.

filled with dancers, mechanics, truck drivers, and athletes.

experience and age do not exist on a timeline.

you’ll be seen and reassured or disappointed –

the diagnosis given will be : life has been good to you or it has not

it’s assumed that you will leave in a state of lightness,

with a straight gait or a restful face.

when the veil of glass separates at your appearance,

you limp towards a life of hardship,

holding a note that reads,

“confirmation of mortality 1x a day”


The Ghost of January

I stayed a ways behind you,

on the curling tail of a forest on it’s wedding day.

dressed in white,

veiled, but not obscured.

we could have walked hand in hand,

but we held leashes instead,

which was a separate bond in itself.

a bond that said,

“I love what you love” or “I am lonely too”.


and for each step forwards,

we left one step behind,

that held all of what was not held by our hands.





A dream / My Reality

fluent image of my mirrored self,

an expulsion of the wooden building blocks I stuffed into separate spaces

when I wore the pale blue onesie that you purchased for me

while you didn’t hold hands,

and you didn’t kiss.

did you speak of me at all?

was a future of my selfhood ever even blended into the sperm that you shaped yourself around?

unabashedly ignorant and martyred,

I was the jackal in your womb.


when I bolstered myself and courageously leaped onto the water slide

of sunny, desolate Florida,

I thought back to when you first forced me forth.

you were the only water slide I knew,

before I even knew what a bruise would look like,

your milky pool was comfort and seemingly torture

before you decided to take even the slightest of plunges into my side of our kinship.


now, we are both square pieces of glass,

an hour apart.

I want to shatter you until you are the sharp dust of a memory

and then I want to inhale you until you leave

the deepest cuts in my self that I ever

had the guts to bleed.