And on those days when I feel godless, and have no Universe to summon to my side, I sit for hours on my lonesome, and cry all the tears I try to hide. I recall words that belong to others and past lovers who lose their form, I learn that I’m not lonely, I am the shelter from my storm. 

Twice Over

If only she scratched letters
On her arms instead of lines
That led us nowhere.
She could have a manual
for her lovers
on how to love her,
War wounds for flesh wounds,
Stories for stitches.
You could read her.                                           You could read her hurt
Twice over.


Sleepless, I see
The swollen moon
Bursting into millions
Of aimless stars
Scattered and broken,
And so beautiful.
I wonder if he,
When sleepless himself,
Thinks of me
Under our moon
And see’s beauty
Among broken mess.


I know my footfalls

Along this well

Worn path,

And I know

The only way it goes.

I walk along


Yet stronger than I

Have ever known.

No longer afraid

Of the heart in my words,

And I know the hurt in yours;

I want no part of your journeys end

I just want to walk

This path alone. 

pizza for breakfast

when all was said and done,

and we’d torn each other apart,

ripping the skin from our own bones,

risking collapse into a pile of dust,

you told me “I have my hurt and

you have yours,”

but I know you,

yes you,

don’t feel it like I do.

you never did.

you never will.

you stupid fool, I think,

of me, not you.

my face, damp and ugly,

and my body tired

from being so heavy.

i’m done i say, aloud