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5.26.22aching heels
shoes that rub, grind
leaving me in my voluntary bind
music that grates against my ear drums
plays while i bide my time
and i wonder why this time
through screams and cheers
why i maintain my internal jeers
to never face my fears
and wonder why this time
i bothered
to stay
as long as i had

Never again
11.19.22If I wake to rise
If I face what I despise
If I brush my teeth and comb my hair
If I go around in circles nowhere
If I wait until the break of dawn
If I decide I can't go on
If I go before you arrive,
I will never be hurt again.

There Is No Warmth, No Solace
7.10.23She stood there, staring back at me. Almost tangible. Nearly within my reach. The sight of her beckoned me to come closer, to lessen the space between us.But I knew it couldn't possibly be her— she couldn't truly be standing there before me, not when I'd seen firsthand her at the end of her road. Yet I craved to be in her vicinity, to be held in her embrace. To feel the warmth of her skin against mine. For her hair to brush against my shoulder as she pulls me close.She felt close— so close— but not enough to close the distance.I could almost hear it— the sound of her footsteps, unmistakably hers, increasing in volume as she drew near.I could almost feel it— the gentle warmth that emanated from her hand as she placed it on my shoulder, the vibrations of her voice through her chest as she pulled me close to it, the delicate beat of her heart against my cheek.I could almost see it— her patient eyes gazing down at me, eyebrows knit slightly in worry, the urge to alleviate her concerns overtaking me at the sight.I could almost give into it— and lose myself in her memory.I linger in my bereavement, and there is no warmth, no solace. The room remains silent, cold, and still. And I know that she will forever stay the same.

eyes on me, and you
2.21.21eyes on my back
eyes on my hair
eyes on my wear
eyes that don't care
what i feel
what i like
what i want
as what they think is the only thing that matters
to me
to you
to the eyes staring from across this room
and it's all meaningless

I'm in love with someone
2.3.21I'm in love with her
A pretty penny I'd picked off the ground
A pretty name with a nice sound
I said if I were hers I'd lay
Content six feet underground
Because I'd need nothing more
Than the smile on her lipsShe's an angel sent from above
She's perfect in every way
The way she talks, the way she carries herself
Her hair, her eyes, like the pretty skies
Leave me lost in themI listen to the sound of the pedestal I'd built crumbling
I open my eyes
And I see
HerShe's human, standing on earth
She has flaws, imperfections
But I adore each and every one
The way she talks, the way she carries herself
Her hair, her eyes, like the pretty skies
Leave me lost in themI'm in love with someone who does exist
I'll knock down the pedestal once more to see her
Past the dust and debris
And appreciate all she is with all I am

standing in the street
3.26.23this is not me
this is not my body
this is not my bread
this is not my blood
this is not my voice
this is not my house
these are not my keys
not my hands
not my feet
as i lost them all
standing in the street

stay a little longer
1.21.23i just wanted to ask
if you could stay a little longer
from tonight until the sun rises
with soft touches and gentle glances
i want to be held in your arms until i despise it
and when you go,
like waking from a dream,
putting on your coat, taking your keys
i just wanted to ask

the weight of water
12.21.22content with contempt
for all that is tangible
for all which speaks to me
with a facade of veracity
deriving pleasure at others' expense
i find myself slipping,
scurrying
to take shelter
from the unrelenting raini will not be held back
by the weight of water

what i wish for
12.7.23i wish for one thing and one thing only
for the sun to rise in my stead
instead of me again
for the sun to rise instead,
for me to never rise again

Since the City Never Sleeps
12.4.23I looked outside the window with quiet interest as the moon rose high in the sky. The pink and orange hues of the sunset gradually gave way to the deep, black darkness of the night. In the silence of the evening, I think of those who hunger and labor late into the night, since the city never sleeps.

why
7.14.23why do people get out of bed?
to seize the day,
so they could say
that they thought they couldn’t, but they did
for that, out of bed they slidwhy do people get out of bed?
to know what other people have said
to wake up in the morning to toast some bread
to continue that book they read
because they know something better waits instead
for when they get up and out of bedwhy can’t i get out of bed?
the thought fills me with dread
there are many things i would do instead
if i could muster the courage to go ahead
but here i lay,
unable to do anything else but stay
here in this bed, filled with dread
that causes me to remain here only to think of what i would do insteadwhy can’t i get out of bed?
i wish i did, so i could have said
that “i thought i couldn’t, but i did”
“for that, out of bed i slid”
to go to the kitchen to toast some bread
to continue that book i read
to know what other people have said
because i know something better waits for me ahead

It hurts
7.24.23i grip
my arm like a
ladder bar
like the edge of a cliff
like a
lifeline
the tension refuses to cease
the sound rings in my ear repeatedly
the tension inside me seeks to spill
from deep inside like a
waterfall like the
precipitation that leaks from the clouds
when it rains
tearing an opening for itself to emerge through my stomach
through my skin
leaving a deep cavity in its wake
like a knife scraping against a
ribcage as it
plunges straight through my chest

it’s always tomorrow
2.2.23standing in front of you i stare at my feet
tapping them on the ground like a ticking clock
tick, tock, tick, tock
why can i never seem to stop
i feel myself spiraling
hands flying
free falling
it’s calling
it’s always tomorrow
tapping, dripping
standing in front of you i stare at my feet
tapping them on the ground like an impatient child
and i hope i will talk to you soon but it’s always
tomorrow
without you my days are tainted in sorrow

once again
12.22.22although i can no longer
hold a candle to the me
of sound mind and nobility
please hold my hand
until the sun rises upon us
once again

hope
9.18.23go to sleep and hope it will be better
it will be better it will
get out of bed and hope it will be better
it will be better,
it will
for it is my will

what i long for
5.5.22i long to fly with the birds
up from that height, away from sight
on the seat of a plane, higher than a crane
one day
i will
view the sky beyond my sill
vast as it is beautiful and blinding
and finally find the words