It’s so gory,
There’s never a winning side,
The winters find a way
To stay 1 or two more days

In spring the rivers run
Off their course and
The flowers turn
Into pollen machines.

In fall the leafs
Dance with the wind
off the trees
All at once

And oh god,
The summer sun
Melts puddles into
My shirts

But you know
I can see some romance
In love

And how hugs
Feel like being wrapped
Around the mantle
Of the earth,

And water drips
From their lips
And i, lost.
With closed eyes,

Like a vagabond,
I’ll plead and beg
Through the traces
That fall in between
Your jaw and your cheeks

Just to pull out
As eyes interlock,
No words spoken
But so much said.

Be good at heart,
Then at appearance.
Strangers will look at appearance,
Closed ones will look at the heart,
But strangers too will become colleagues or dear ones.
6/5/2024

I decided to write
One last time
With icicles of ink
Sharpened words,
That slowly disperse
Every mean word said to me
I write
And I write
Every heartbreak
I let it flee with no fight
No tears,
Just raindrops,
No chills down my spine,
My heart devoid of fear
I take icicles of ink
I shove it in my heart
The words do not pierce,
They bleed from my pocket,
They spill,
Raw,
And pure
No frostbites
No frozen tears.

empty black beans can
full of cigarette butts the
smell is unnoticed

I have not allowed
Myself to be near
Real windows,
Not because
I’m scared of what
I would do,
But because I’m
Always drunk or high
And I could tumble
My way off a 5th
Floor by accident,
Or I could stare
Deeply into the crowd,
People. People. People.
So many walking fast,
Others holding hands,
The sky is falling,
I wish I could open
This window so
I can warn them,

But I am so tired.

I would like
To close my eyes
While I lay on your
Thighs and your hands
Knock on the door
And make themselves
At home while
Playing with my hair,
And I for the first
Time in what feels
Like forever,
Sleep and dream
Of love
And what ifs,
Until the morning sun
Comes through
shading in
The night
And I’m back
To being too
Scared of windows.

The bird sings
To the sun
Acclamations
As it prays
And builds
Itself a nest,
He then flies
Through the trees
And around
the branches
Like a circus
gymnast
Dressed in
tight colors
Just to dive up
Around the sea
Of Leafs until
He finds himself
Souring through
The clouds,
Close enough
To the sunset,
Praising the
Tints of orange
And reds
Running through
What we
could call
Personified life,
He then
sings again,
One last
time for the day,
Before twilight
Reigns the sky
With constellations
Of stars that are too
Far to hear the singing
Or the crying or
The laughter.

𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘶𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦,
𝘐 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦,
𝘈 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴,
𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦.

𝘈𝘴 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺,
𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯,
𝘔𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘴,
𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘯.

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱,
𝘐 𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺,
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘴,
𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺.

𝘉𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴,
𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯 𝘣𝘪𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘶,
𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵,
𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦.

𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴,
𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦,
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘦𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴,
𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦.

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦,
𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦,
𝘎𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘺𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘩
𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦.

𝘚𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴,
𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦,
𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦,
𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴.

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺,
𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯,
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘥𝘺,
𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.