Stab into my back

The very thing you protect

Left behind to rot....

It started as a song

But I’ve lost the melody.

Sitting at the grown up table,

_Is_ anyone stable?

I talked with the faces

Washed my hands with the broken flowers vases.

Sat with strangers on those stone-hard benches

Followed His tears in those life-worn trenches,

No one really wants to see over their neighbors fences.

Well

The absence of warmth. That’s how I’d describe it. The echo and th...

My movements robotic.

Wake up and swim in the grief of loving.

The sun is halfway melting.

Circuits fried.

I miss strawberries.

Warm strawberries smell like my favorite childhood memories.

Summer days and weed crowns months away.

Laying in the climate change.

Wonder gets dressed and I watch.

Do I still fit?

Skin is tight but soft.

I guess that’s me.

I’m wound so tight of all the things I k...

Comida is Spanish for food,

I would’ve thought it meant love.

You’re there when I’m sad,

My confident when I’m glad.

Comfort is in your name.

At either 1am or 3pm,

You’re there just the same.

You smell of sweet and so so salty.

Your names taste spicy and tart

and fresh baked bread

Wrapped around my tongue.

I would see you in the most elegant porcelain dress

Or the trashy tin from the s...

Ready player one

Is all about moving backwards.

Really really fast. Fast as we can.

Tripping over the past

Digging up our faults out of that cosmic trash can.

Player one. Who is that.

It can’t always be you.

I’ve learned that,

Because there’s those out there

Who scheme

And plot

And raid

And terrorize

And cheat

And kill.

What about that

Oasis?

What if it’s not out there?

Better worse...

I feel like I have change logeded in between

My first and second ribs.

And

if I try to study it,

pain will flower

and my lungs will collapse.

Is it always ending?...

First day of school. Collar is uneven. Blond hair messy. His deep navy blue jacket unbuttoned all the way. The top two buttons of his rumpled shirt are also neglected.

His purple tie is tied survivor style on his left arm. They said he had to wear one. They never said how. Every pin on his jacket perfectly crooked. One, representing respect, completely upside down. The issued belt is missing, rep...

**po•et•ry**

_/noun/_

_/a place to be found?/_

__

__

A necessary work

For those that are hooked.

On this drug that is part of our veins.

Not a choice, but a impulse to, as is Ernest,

Sit down at a typewriter and bleed.

It runs through the caverns of our fears and weaves with the heartstrings of our sorrows.

Joy is rarely raised, but often released in phrase,

Oceans and deserts of salt.

Made in...

You know those times.

When you’re both kids.

And in a shared moment of vulnerability you both make that silly pact?

The pact that says, ‘10 years time, if we are both single, we’ll give it a shot?’

It’s a pact you never expect to actually become realized, but you do it anyway?

Because no way, Wren, is your gorgeous best friend

Sydney Hart not going to have a boyfriend, or be married at 2...