Sunday, December 16, 2018

And So

I just wanted to be alone,

so I could figure it all out—

thank you

Back Up, Up

Maybe it wasn’t the same,
but I felt cold,
and sort of the same every single time,
every time this day arrives,
then immediately worse,

it seems,
seams the same,
even if I didn’t believe in humiliation,
or in this—

and I think messes meant art,
or completion,
but they didn’t,

they were just make believe—

Saturday, December 15, 2018


It was all so dizzying,

until it came out—
all over that place,
and this one,
and this

Friday, December 14, 2018

Blue Star Line

It never happened,

and I wanted diamonds,
and canvas shells shrouded in pastels and mystery,

and I think they didn’t understand me,
they didn’t understand any of us,

even with the words—

Wednesday, December 12, 2018

Window and Lane

It was all just,


just so very average.

Tuesday, December 11, 2018


It's complicated,
and I felt indifferent to things ending,

and even to them beginning


Monday, December 10, 2018

The Mark

The chase felt different,
there were three of us,

and neither of them really knew me,
and I probably liked it that way,

behind this door,
and a good little padlock,

and I knew I had something to give him,
or him,

or maybe even me,
one day,

many Moons from now,

I just wasn't sure what it was

Sunday, December 9, 2018

Twice Over

I missed him,
and him, too,

five years felt like a long time,
there were markers we didn’t hit,

things we should have done,
but couldn’t,

and I kept thinking I could see time,
like it was tangible,
something I could knock around a bit,

but I couldn’t

and today I missed them both,
and the slanted ceilings,
the ghostwriting,
the brothers fathers kind of love,
the footsteps up and down,

88 or so—

I just missed them—

Pro Nouns

There’s a hold,

a hold again,
regardless of breed or background,

of mindset,
of choice,
of all of it,

we were all the same—
even we knew that—

Saturday, December 8, 2018

The Last Minute

it had always been lost on me,


even when nobility has been involved,
even when it had been lost—

Thursday, December 6, 2018

Way Word

Home felt better when it was lonely,

because there was still always something to fill it up with,
or someone,
or things,
and so on,

it felt better half full

The Cold Front


not a popsicle,
not here,

not mine,
or ours,
not ever