a premature flight.

just remnants
cold and bruising
pale bones, delicate
stolen thoughts
hush, don't tell
empty pockets
fire escape fall
holes in my wings
holes in my wings

panic. rinse. repeat.

chewing off red paint
busy, busy inside
these bones shake
my blood flow slow
bright white night
piano sounds pound
i'm dripping ice
marching in place
fire in my chest
coughing up the best
i'm intrigued
scared of hollow speak
fear in syllables i leak
i am weak, i am weak
i am weak

a chill.

white night, snow lit
buried cars, stay indoors
all these minutes
calculating when
too soon, slow down
watch your step
we're trying to be grown up
but i'd say i miss you
if i knew you better.

you've got nerve, but i'm preoccupied.

this glass is half empty
stagnant
with a little light
shining through
open wide
bitter stares
and knives in backs
don't swallow down easy
i'm itching to take it back
pull the thread a little more
and leave a handprint
red on your cheek
with satisfaction
but drinking guilt down
with my coffee come morning.

my version of what could happen.

feathers, down, down
a hint of dark around the corner
the back of your head
is a calm to my heart racing
see-through flower petals
falling down on my cheeks, flushed
flashes of skin
the grass is mile high
i breathe your breath
a winter mingle collide
my toes need stepping on
i want to dance in the fog
and lay in feathers, down, down
midnight lessons, keep them close
the engine's running
and i forget where my nerves have gone.

a very short biography.

i feel worn
unfit
the aftermath
of a small disaster
a half of a second
intrigued, then closing doors
permanently mediocre
i'm a leaking faucet
emptying out
small portions of me
bones
and green eyes
are all that remains

your drugs found their way in.

it's an eye glance shiver
curled lip sparks and nerves
awkward, side by side
turning off tornado thoughts
tonight is just ordinary
words might be falling false
a maybe, premature cracks
scared and familiar, secrets
i am just ordinary
fingers crossed, hidden
a turn away, hushed sighs
cautiously falling
you, a glimpse of the opposite

sap.

i'd turn the streets into trampolines
and bring the ocean to your knees
catch fireflies in broken glass jars
you are free
whenever you please
fly to me
and bring the sea
if you please
fill in the blanks
a wink, your name carved in my tree
stacks of books, you can wear my broken glasses
i'd read to you sweet, with the ocean at our knees
a hundred birds on telephone wires
is best i know how to say, you make me feel
and maybe a windy day with the windows down.

three seconds before sleep.

wait, they're falling
a slow fade, burning
up, down
drifting
in, out
what's that sound?
thunder, rumble
distant trains
a whistle, the wind
and in my ear, a buzzing
calling
singing
close them, gentle
blackest black
it's over now
lie still
wait, the fade
the day, the end

" i just don't think i'll ever get over you."

heart beats
salt and memory
missing
the shape of you
never gone
dead petals
broken me
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
still.

exclamation points.

It’s ringing, It’s humming.
You disappoint.
Of course.
I’m making mistakes,
And tripping on them,
Over and over,
And over and over.
I’ll bend like this,
If you say it’s ok.
Screaming silently,
It’s not ok!
It’s not ok!
These strings attached,
I made them for you.
Make me move.
Fall down,
And down and down.
My catastrophe heart,
It’s ringing, it’s humming.

careful, honey, lies are heavy.

There are bees on your lips.
Knives in your back.
Fall flat.
Kissing strangers
A liars’ handshake
Never say always
Never say right.
Mountains on your shoulders
Bent knees won’t make the mile
You’re a crack in the sky
A dead leaf forest
Never lie down.
Never shut both eyes.
There are bees on your lips
Poison in that tongue.
Take a bow.
Blow us a kiss.

cold conversations.

winter hands, hollow me out
empty dry, a release, i need
these city buildings are tragic
tall like forest trees
and swallowing me bit by bit
an innocent bird growing bitter
lost in all the dead leaves falling
burying any living soul below
second hand smoke reruns and
brand new piles of fear each morning
mystery bruises, lonesome nights
winter cold, fall asleep inside my bones
break apart, awakening, i ache
identical shadows, flashes, smiles
backwards feet, never ending pavement
winter breeze, tell me a story
forgive, forget, follow through
drowning underneath your frozen touch
eyelids shut, lips parted, i breathe in.

streetlights welcome me home.

There’s this streetlight in front of my house that flickers on, dimly, then off, out completely.
Every night it talks to me through my window, sending messages with its streetlight code.
It says as long as its heart still beats, I should stay put, keep my things on this very spot
But as soon as the light inside burns out, its final spark will tell me it’s time to move on.


So, I wait.