make ends meet

we live our lives waiting to die
        they say
i'm living my life,
 waiting for you
                          (is that a kind of death, too?)

but isn't it morbid,
   to start with the end?

but what are you and me
  but a collection of loose moments
and words
    and touches

      and accidents? (i didn't mean to love you
                               you don't mean to let me.)

should i talk instead about how you
feel like
             sunlight
taste like
                the rain
                on my skin? does that make it easier for you?

(we have enough endings by now
                 to start something new.)

string jupiter

do you know?
                      do you know where you are?


you're here:
                  in the breathy exhalations between my words,
                  in between each line of this novel i'm reading
                  in the little spaces between each electron and nucleus


the memory of your voice
                                        petals pressed on my cheeks


and if your hands fit against mine
                                                   like pieces from different puzzles,
then, well, baby,
                         i won't be the one to mention it.


it's all these names that spill from the column of my throat,
                                                                                       your personal fountain of youth,
keeping you young in this world after it all
                                                                c r a s h e s.
love, heart, mine, sweet, beautiful, angel, 
                                                                  tiger, rose, sayang, amore, more, more more.
no one
           else
i'd
    love


and you're my michael, the prince of all my heaven's,
                                                                                and i'm in rapture.
you're my lucifer, the prince of darkness,
                                                             and spill those slick, sweet secrets from your silver tongue onto mine.

shut up
           i'm almost done


you drive a shiny sleek car,
                                         and i couldn't be bothered to get a license because
there was something about roads,
                                                   and good intentions,
but i can't see past our emerald city,
                                                       we were never in kansas, dorothy.




how do i forget you,
                               when you're everything?


tell me that i'm not the only one
                                               that's swallowing this sea up whole
that's drowning from the inside out.


tell me that i'm not the only one
                                               who's so in love it makes you sick
and it's blood and orange and useless little love poems,
                                                                                 curdled up on the blue floor.

tell me that i'm not the only one
                                               who's miserable


i'd string jupiter around my neck,
                                                 and it would kill me quicker than you.
a whole year,
                     what's your poison?


it's a sunny day out,
                             well, i'm watching through blue-tinted windows,
and yeah,
               yeah, baby,
i fucking miss you.

come home, come home

once upon a time,
i took the stars from my eyes,
joined them with yours,
and kept them in a silver
heart-shaped locket around my neck,

i used this chain to find my way back,
to you, to you, to you,
torn, tired trainers trailing
across the vast night sky;
empty as stars and moons,
shy from your smile
you are home, always.

memento

she writes your story in 

lifeb l o o d,

and keeps you real,
in a cacophony of
empty fiction.

ghost of you

i.
                                      my sleep is haunted by a burning baritone,
                                      e c h o e s in my mind's ear like seraphim song.


                                      i dream of a city of glass lit up by white fires.
                                      i dream of ivory dresses and a topaz necklace.
                                      i dream of words entwined like an ivy crown.
                                      and i  l i e
                                                    ...because i dream of only  y o u.

ii.
                                      my days are shadowed, hallowed,
                                      feet trailing on pallid grounds,
                                      lit up by moonlight,
                                      long gone,
                                      and detour signs,
                                      lead me home.

iii.

                                      i am empty;
                                      all my words
                                      are ghost-written
                                      in lemon juice.





                                      waiting endlessly to wake from a sleep,
                                      my world is without a sun.

ceasefire romance

his heart b e a t s
a new brand of morse code,
hope in times of war;
you are mine.

i've spent my whole life,
in the dark,
trying to find this.