Poems · writing

Bitter in its Sweetness/Estranged

Here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud; 

You left me and I’ve nowhere to go.


You carried my heart with you,

You carried it in your heart.


When the door closed and the sun set


You took my heart with you,

You carried it in your heart.


You told me I was whatever a moon has always meant,

And whatever a sun will always sing is you.


You carry my heart with you,

You carry it in your heart.


And I wish you would bring it back.

Poems · writing

An In N Out Dreary

In memory you are lost

As I second guess the cost

Of sickness spreading faster

Unmitigated disaster


Dwelling on those winter days

Brand new love a dizzy haze

Walking far into the night

Knowing we were quite the sight


In the timepiece of my heart

Hoping something new will start

Waiting til the stars align

For you again to be mine

Poems · writing

Tryhard

Sometimes I convince myself that my teeth could bite through metal

That the razor edges would do nothing to the soft parts of my mouth

That I wouldn’t bleed

Sometimes I think that I could crush glass between my fingers

That the glazed sand would find no purchase on my soft tissue

That I wouldn’t tear

Sometimes I imagine that if you were here I would be able to stand it

That the sound of your voice would be nothing but a residual melody in my mind. Your face an inkblot.

That I wouldn’t crumble.

But I know, I know, I know.

The moments tick by and I know.

I bleed, I tear, I crumble.

I am no match for the dreams that play in my head

Poems · writing

Unintended Consequences

Push and pull

Out of control

Well let’s go since you seem to know

The way.

Between the click of the light and the start of the dream

When it ends,

Before it ends,

Will you keep me here in your mind

For awhile?

(Hidden away in the pocket of a daydream)

How much is too much to ask of you

I was hoping we could talk it through

Before you’re gone with the morning


Not sure I need to mention it but just to be safe: line five is from the Arcade Fire song No Cars Go, which is sort of what propelled this poem.

Poems · writing

Empty Space

I used to cry over the lines

At my ability to draw outside them.

Whether it was pen,

Crayon,

Marker.

My concentration would slip

A breath,

Hairline fracture,

And imperfection would strike again.

So why, after all that,

Do I find myself stuck

Wanting nothing more than to escape

Those lines I tried so hard not to break