i feel you
like tiny backpacks
flowers once hit in the suicide lane
maybe we’re passers by
watching them work around us
purposeful with dissatisfaction
unable to wish it any better
but doing it anyways.
if you think you knew me before
you should see me now
all upper crust
like flowers on any apron
reminding anthologies the grass is greener somewhere
i feel your absence like picks on my feet
moons half beet but still trying
hoping for the next time they can be full.

how are the trees there?
is the oxygen
a better breath?
or are you drowning
heavy in the foliage.


it would be an injustice
of spring to blame the pollen for the rain
just like some of the largest
most beautiful flowers smell like rotting corpses.

crowds father ofter decades just to see Death in bloom.

Belladona is commonly inwon amongst herbalists and toxicologists alike as on of the most poisonous plants on this Earth.
but i have loved you from the moment you held my hand and called me friend.
boxes, bags and and an entire half a year’s reading list later
i know your place amongst the living doesn’t belong with the shadows we’ve sown onto our buttons.
there comes a time to look both ways and cross the street
and you’re crossing out your Petter Pan life
for the land of milk-honey thyme.

i will be there
in every forest walk
in every tea sip

i will be there when fox fire lights the wondering eyes
and i will be there when wolves threaten to claw out our skin
because they do
and they will.
just like we re-build our sensibilities after
each beasteal impulse

this is for you.

it takes courage
to marry the salt with the hungry
our trips around the world have left us dizzy with exhaustion
tired of “waiting for godot”
enough to teach anyone
that the world would still be round
even for people with legs as short as ours.
let no one make a feast of your bite
don’t ever apologize for having too much bark
thats how we weed
the humble pure from the painted-actors.
some would call us
queens of self sabotage
we know
it is our discernment
that keeps our foundations stable.
thank you, for teaching me to never settle
for anything less.

i told you – my world would break you
leave gracefully

mirror – you’ve always been the clearest
i cried for you
just like you have for me
in cities where no man sleeps easy
we rest the goldfish in the platter
cannibals picking at each other’s scabs
waiting for the next full moon
to call our hunchback pretty.
Our destruction isn’t pretty
our wild is just that
muddy windy-cold
with no dry socks and
too many ice cubes in your drink.
we’re wretched
and now wrinkled finding calm
but we’ll always be the
vagabond inside
did you know i cried when you said
“what I feel for anyone is only a portion of what I feel for you.”
vagabond, thief, deviant, you tyrant
everything within you is reflected in me.

thank you. thank you. thank you.
my hands,
my eyes,
could never do justice
to how my heart
rejoiced in these words.

the grate dodge,
retracting. i’m a broken yo-yo
too tangled in my string to fully come down.
were those moments real?
did you truly hold me?
or was i
trophy – a conquest to prove your heartache
you’ve shown me sweetness,
but only just enough
but only just the edge.
i’m too scared to play a guess
so i’m checking my own king.
you cunt, you lovely cunt
don’t make me happy. please don’t fill me up
and let me think
that something good can come out of this.
look at my bruises. Look at this gaze.
do you see graze inside of me? Do you
see it growing before your very eyes,
eroding me?

final decision
we’re closing in on eachother
do you think i don’t know what it feels
to be choked out by a ring
tetanus tease
its simply

minor set back
a gentle nudge across the face
ice cold bath from the neck
to remind you of your place.
Over eager child,
your dogs are walking your leash
and you’ve stepped into empty space.
Temperance XIV
and regain ground
this fantasy isn’t real
and there is no such thing
as one basket
for stubborn eggs refusing to hatch.
you wrote your story,
now lay in it
let your lover(s) run their hands along your spine
bookmark chapters of their triumphs
may you be subject
to limitation of devotion
where no one will know
how much blood your heart,
can circulate through
no one
not even you.


there’s tremble in my gentle
slowly uncovering the rubble
i’ve been starved for months
holding trouble next to mirror
but i’m changing
a glimmer catching the moths
circling my devotion they know there’s a light here
you echo what im too scared to think
and love,
a teal weave across my halo.
Even ogres know craft.



a better bed than any of the many ive been laid on
where i sleep

your eagerness is capricious
but your hands are shaking.

slow down kid

chosen, bells and i
to taste gold and
come close enough to glory to
be edged between
greatness and no longer human.
deviants with wisdom beyond their wisdom
eyes too small too thirsty
purging our faces of what we can no longer hold.

so we settle.
it’s important

for us to stay because we

quaint combination of fingertips
laced with crow it seems
i must keep one foot off the earth
to feed wolven archetypes
im a master
off-course repetition
hoping only to humm it tame
ill imagine my insanity your reflection
somethings gotta give

Ive met the orchid man before
the one i plead with- not while i hold you
the one that won’t die
no matter how punctured
stubborn dull sword. she’s special.

even in my dreams
gratuitous acrobatics and unnecessary
back arches.

splitting at the storylines
we’re in this together somehow
regain grace in pieces of myself
do you find it this hard too?

radical acceptance

im purging out exhaustion
calling up the neighbor skin
to toughen up
the sweat cold bath feverish in recoils
4:00 a.m bloodbaths
and an unseen need to
cave into good nature

I’m breaking an entering
into my own domain
hoping to gut out the tar from my toes
recover space
and fill it with good fortune

no more war
no more war
no more war