in terminusyou say my timeline is infinitesimalwhen compared to your hourglassanatomy; a never ending cycle tickingtime away like a metronome, andagain gravity refuses to bend for me;i cannot see the fault lines in our skiesany longer. my crystal ball is cloudy,filled to the brink of destruction --your broken words and the obscuremisology that is to be our fate.
Apology PoemSometimes life is a battlefieldand conversation a mine zone,we put our foot down on bombsto stand up straightbut just turn to pieces.So in the face of explosion,I. Am. Sorry.
desperate to connectwinter was never my favorite season -here's the truth about december:stars fade to blue,and constellations, ambitions, and things in between(now dreaming of the simple things that gently touch the world near my feet)lie down in somber sleep, here under the north star.winter was never my favorite season -this is about forgetting how to move mountains.december silence hangs from the rafters in the skyin a city of orphans with winter wanderlust(of the girl teaching herself to fly, the hospital bird with soot in her lungs)where folded, between the pages of books, the dandelions [never] grow.winter was never my favorite season -i hear no echo of my footsteps after the ice has melted.to the girl with ghost hands who held the moon with a string [myself],there is a song for this between night and day(at the most peculiar of places - a nonexistent heart)where happiness lies, and i can [hear the] whisper,"this is me being brave"
you talk like a travestyoh, mercury boy, you can'twrite your way out of thisbody or out of this mind;you can pray like it's high-fashion,insist you're only burning yourself out(but tell me - do you feel like a god yet?)if only for murky mirrors &silver cicadas caughtin your ribcage, you'vegot a knack for decaying
9 Word GoodbyeIn my headI still have conversations with you