Posts
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11:07 pm on a 20° Fahrenheit Night
I.
I haphazardly roam this “wonderland” of sorts,
yet there is nothing magical about these bleak
expansive hills that submerse my every
racing thought- releasing the whisper of memories -
the tree who gave
after it was all done
and the world had settled
on the final whisper of hope;
the tree sighed with relief.
it has spent rings of centuries
feeding generations of
unthankful fools that caused -
The Paternal Heirloom
I wonder how you live
Through a vague vision of self-dosing
Copious amounts of forty percenter
Guiding you into a limitless hole of destruction;
Leading you out of your kins life one wobbled step at a time. -
My Love
It’s comparable to a genius fleeting thought
That wiggled its way into one ear
Then out the other- then gets lost in the void
Between what I ate for breakfast
And if I took my medication. -
Ode to my first
She was always my favorite –
I’ve heard people say your first love is when
Your brain flings out of the stratosphere,
And you hallucinate hearts dancing around
Her body, singing a joyous tune in -
Butterfly Effect
But it takes a moment to realize
Ultimately, it could have never happened.
The second I chose to hide away in
The bathroom late at night when I was
Exhausted from having a
Ripped to pieces personality- a
Loves
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Girl
like a human, I take comfort in what I know best.
I'll hide in my favorite spaces, and worry about how I'll have to leave them.
I'm terrible at living in the moment, it seems like a task for future me.
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Growing Beautifully Old
Because that is love,
when my beaten, wrinkled skin is still caressed by you,
and your gray smoky hair is my loving obsession.
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The birds flee the dying places
In the sky
the birds fly,
fleeing this land, for this land is dying.
They fly south, to the deserts and the rainforests,
Places indefinitely lively. -
She
She was told to blend in,
to never show off.
“Women should be seen and not heard”
or maybe not seen either;
She was told to be smart,
but of course, not too smart.
you must not scare them away. -
The Eldest of the Seasons
if life is but a dream for the dead
may you visit us during autumn, the eldest of the seasons
letting your fragile bones be exposed to the crisp air of october
letting your fingertips run over the bars of the cemetery gates
