Tenderi remember you.
To-Do List: September 201402-09-2014 Eight year old jealousy15-09-2014 Condoms and mushrooms19-09-2014 Icecream tips30-09-2014 Take me off your roster, I can't come out to play30-09-2014 She's not the kind of girl who does things in halves30-09-2014 Is not afraid of blood tests and enjoys black jellybeans
To-Do List: August 201408-08-2014 4am thumb wars08-08-2014 Red wine brush18-08-2014 Tell your mother i'm sorry
To-Do List: July 201415-07-2014 I think everyone's felt like they've wasted so much time
To-Do List: June 201406-06-2014 Listen to your feet08-06-2014 Nobody knows what a dinosaurs penis looks like08-06-2014 Cats, cuts, chai lattes and croissants
Ciclical movements1.starfill e dpossibility2.laughter bringanything3.only you4. breathecstatic thing5.rainlike sobetweenme6. trusteachhand7. whisper moreabouthim8.feel rainbow today9.little moment s sing10.theylike warm blue sky11.comfortessential12. surprisehopeand wonder13.see a positive happen14. todaycan bloom15.givebetter16. and let's find happiness
To-Do List: May 201402-05-2014 Inner city sea birds09-05-2014 I feel like i've made a decision i'm just not sure what it is yet22-05-2014 Coffins always look so small27-05-2014 Figuring out what to do with the rest of d's life.
To-Do List: April 201412-04-2014 Half moon coffee19-04-2013 The only thing i'm bad at doing is doing the things i'm good at
To-Do List: March 201404-03-14 Capital letter kisses20-03-14 Acid and blues21-03-14 Good smelling people22-03-14 The heat from a train29-03-14 And off the train goes into the universe29-03-14 Backyard conversations
AnswersI don't write poetry.I just let the pen DanceAcross crumbled pages.I let my soulBleed into ink.As my way of askingStatues and glowingScreensFor answersBut They never answer.
we used to fly togetheri've got a good memory,but i was surprised to find the box;full of our scribbled conversationsand protestations (no, that's not right)declarations, no, dreamsof what the future might look like.we were young, vibrant, andbeautiful (and inseparable, once)and we thought we knew how totake hold of the future.for my part, i struggled withage as if i had a chance of winning;our battles were the talk of the town.you, you took to the passing of time with an eagerness that showedjust how ready you were to put away the notions of childhood.i've got a good memory,but it's easy to be selective,pick and choose the momentsthat i want to relive.we were foolish, confident(and oh, so alive)and we fell into our roleswith a predictability that is near miraculousto behold.i doomed myself to the role ofthe forever-child, always looking back,always dreaming of the carefree days.you quickly ran out of adventures,and set about finding new myst
Empty But Alivebreathing you in, octoberi taste the numbing agentseven on the very surfaceof your conspiracy, thisprepping of the patientthis unworking of the earthsealing it as-ishardening the sitesof future graves, forced shallownot harvesting, just weakeningarranging late-year stacksof blurry panic, while disablingthe defensive responseso much decline to wagebefore the winter killsoctober knows i'm a foolfor the dark underbreathof its dead open airthe howl of the breezethrough its night fields, emptybut alive, and so very not emptyits rhythm of silencebetween barks and callsstalls my heart mid-beati used to pray for its enginesto restart, before it hit groundbut now i realizethat there is no floorto this dreamand no bottom to this fall
To The Boys Who Died In Their SleepTo The Boys Who Died In Their Sleepc(h)ords s n a g cadence in codasplaying andromedawaves over tideswashing lives into over timesitting ondeadlines dead lieson the otherside oftimeand time folds like old laundry over clotheslinesfade into two endpoints like closed lines this is ad nauseum not ad infinitum adding sicknessto
decodei pinedunequivocallyfor the quillin soft shadows:the swallow's smileand toothyflightthe curveof treebowsrotting-freshto planta buduphigh andhemlocking-mebetween a dreamand sleepand sleepand sleepyou musn't worryI have foundan ink-sourcethus:a quibblingcreek -my soul!It willblossomlike poppieson the pagebefore me,myfingertipthe pen
hummingbirds only fly in the sun hummingbird girl,you are the sunlight twinklingin my eyes. a letter addressedto no one ended up on nobody'sdoorstep, dancing around odysseusand his iliad. the gods whisperin your ears at night, lending youtheir words to paint onto brittleparchment. you are a mysterycloaked in fragments and fabricatedwings, the taste of the universeon my tongue. if i could unlockthe cage i would set you free,but my nimble fingers aren't goodfor anything except tying knotsin heartstrings that aren't my own.
ten.why don't we sit underthe hangmans noose;contemplate lifefor a bit.watch the crows hustle aroundthesefrayed ropes, and listen to thewind rustle dirt'sleaves.there's a cool breeze comingthrough,almost too cold, its...bitter.so let's just walk away and seek thewarmthunder these charcoalfeathers.[its a comforting feeling to have life, anddeath in your control. ]
My Personal PreferenceI don’t careFor pretty heartsI like the onesThat are scarredStitchedAnd taped togetherBecause those are the onesWho have been through HellAnd have the courageTo keep beating
dextrorotatory doxologiesI once was a heavenly body, I think.A sharp crystal in the veins of God.I swam about in bliss fluidand rambled all truthsin new shades of deep blushas he brusquely introduced meto others more potentand livid.I felt myself nearing the heart of all matterand panicked, lodged painfullyin vein, dangerously ingrainedinstead of ascertaining thatthe truth of self is not heldbut given.And as I ventured slowly closerI posed but one query:"Tell me, what powerdo you haveto spare me?"
UnusualUp to datewith crossing outnumbers.