Tuesday, December 21, 2010

he used to shake the storm off him when he came home,
a great big dog
of a man
his rain puddles sitting calmly by the door

"are you cheating on me?" she would ask one night
and he would say "yes" because
it was better that she think he was preoccupied than

[the apartment building was exactly level and the our windows matched up so i watched them for hours from my little hole on the 3rd floor with names carved into the molding. i knew he had money because his furniture was made from heavy wood and not the cheap shit that butterfly screws in and she was younger but hunched like an old woman. they said 'goodnight' and slept with their backs touching so i said 'goodnight' and slept with hospital sheets
and my back pushed up against the dresser
particle board, cheap shit.]

a researched joy

i touch you like a spider with
eight fingers drinking your skin
into their ridges;
a reservoir of remembering

you walk from the bedroom to the kitchen
steps heavy with

Thursday, December 16, 2010

in the morning with sleeping lips

i can see through her eyes, those
great gray open books.
hey, did i ever tell you about the time
i turned all the good days terrible
and life was a husk

being happy is even better when i'm being happy with you.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

a place we've never been

invisible strings over mountains and
and power lines
from your chest to mine,
i love that you believe
there's still a bit of naive
left in me.

crossed out in the margin, a name.

and i'll be the snow if you'll be salt
and capture me inside of you and
freeze together; i want to know
what you think about late at night when everything is quiet when
no one's around.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

baby please don't go

i've never been good at anything

the way i'm good at loving you.

two ninety six point eight nine

"she smiles now, which is an improvement"
they say and they smile too
i laugh and scratch at the number under my skin

Saturday, December 11, 2010


"take me, take me back to your bed
i love you so much that it hurts my head
say 'i don't mind you under my skin'
i let the bad parts in, the bad parts in

well you're my favorite bird and when you sing
i really do wish that you'd wear my ring
no matter what they say, i am still the king
the storm is coming, the storm is coming in"

a speck of summer in December;
i'd set my ship to your stars
you are the simplest sleep
on the plane ride coming home.

Friday, December 10, 2010

people listen;
she is sand she is sand she is sand
cradle her to your chest

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

all these moons are yours.

and sometimes I can see the California inside of you

years of sunshine baked freckles and the ocean at your bedroom door

watching a tiny bright body

sleep safely.

sand worn into your hands.

something beautiful watching a tiny bright body
sleep safely.

[the garish moon like a mother hen]

Friday, December 3, 2010

merry fucking christmas


this won't be the last;

i don't know why i sometimes write you letters still and the little drawer underneath my desk is leaking
with all the words i don't tell people but i can tell you because you're dead.

i don't know what to do, her mouth is closed and that's how i know she might cry and
when i say the words, the stars in her eyes flicker and ghost-; farther and farther away from me.
i love her, you know, i miss her but i can't just run away to California because i might never come back. i'm trying so fucking hard to make all the right choices all the time and it's so
because even the right choices still hurt people.

i imagine you in an ivy league campus coffee shop reading my words
and smoking and drinking some
drink and you aren't strung out and you aren't so thin and you aren't so fragile.
you take pretty pictures and you twirl in your dress for her and you even smile
i can't talk to anyone like i talk to you
because you listen and you don't mind if i stutter through stories and
you're dead.

Thursday, December 2, 2010


she tells me to write her things, leaning on elbows, in bed early Sunday
darling, every breath i take is a love poem
every second i am alive is a testament

is an endless torrent

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

resounding silence.

and now silly things like half full glasses of apple juice
your sweatshirt hanging off the back of my chair
break me apart

you were just here
i swear, i remember
you were here.

Monday, November 29, 2010

the sky-; a dark pink, swollen with snow

she left on a train today,
[they tear her away from my bones]

Friday, November 26, 2010

i'm the best me
when i'm with you.

[right at this exact moment
i think i've fallen into something more than love
right at this exact moment
you've imprinted into a place inside of me
and i don't think i can ever
go back.]

Sunday, November 21, 2010

you come beating like moth's wings

Thursday, November 18, 2010

oh god, i am alive.

last November was all burned leaves and bare white trees

branches with dirty little children hands grabbing greedily at the sky
'more more more'

November looked different this year

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

you've driven me to words

Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back.
Those who wish to sing always find a song.
At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.

i don't know if i believe in love but i believe that without her
the spin of the world would most logically

Monday, November 15, 2010


i just want to do the ordinary things with you
like grocery shopping and laundry and
napping and reading

we don't have to fight and break up and i don't have to chase you down at an airport
seconds before the plane takes off.
we can just do this
for a long time

Saturday, November 13, 2010

a curtain of trees drawn around a nighttime body

you are the sounds of trains
that lull me to sleep
you are the radio in my car that pulls me through
dark country drives home
you are the one star that makes me believe
in the heavens

i would live for you.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

i remember the first time you said it i remember, 2:47 PM

there seems to be a miscounting, an another ocean
on the planet
my mouth is full of seaweed and your body's
the atlantic.

a pretty list of i love yous, lets take a minute
for the gnarled words like
sick and sad and crave; the ones i can't stop using because
i never learned anything else.
i'll scrape this into wood i'll pile all this
terrible in a pile and i will write
the ugliest love poems because i belong to you now.
i belong to you
i belong to you now.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

leave the uncertainness in a packed bag by the door

i stood tall on my arch supports thinkin'
'oh my god
you know i'll probably have to carry this all'

we spent our morning bells drinking
"oh my god
its only been the beginning all along"

so i ran ran ran to monticello singing
"oh my god
if the jump doesn't kill me, it'll be the fall

they tell us fear is nightmares,
shadows a little too long
cracked door creeping and the little games played inside our heads
[i always lose]

how about a girl standing begging
me to look her in the eyes and i exhale out of the side of my mouth
[smoking kills smoking kills
you couldn't stand it if she ever died]
fucking frightened
she will see my hands and the quiet things
that no one ever knows.

this is the reason for this blog

Sunday, November 7, 2010

"you know, where i'm from, nighttime is usually all black with little stars
but here its rather blue
from all the glow"
she laughs as if she's never heard
of an all black with little stars nighttime
then quietly

"i like that it's darker
where you're from
i like
that your eyes are still new to this"
she was so beautiful under those big buildings.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

the truth is,
i'd drive all the way to new york city
just to see the lights
reflected in your eyes.

the truth is,
i'd walk all the way to california
just to see

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

you're something special, you know that?

i've learned that happiness comes out of nowhere

like a bursting flash

i've learned that sadness comes out of everywhere
like a slow sinking

i refuse to drown
ever again

Tuesday, November 2, 2010


the endless expanse of cognitivity
i fear i created you in my dreams.
comatose on the ballroom floor i would 
mold create control
in my head.

there's safety in the awareness of your surroundings, the notion of being 'present' in the world, so you stand, convincing yourself at the bathroom mirror [nearly hyperventilating] 
you're really here. 
it crashes on us, sometimes, the finality of mortality and the possibility that perhaps,
our minds have lied to us.
 it's when you see her for the first time. an experience so wonderful that it sort of tears at the fabric of reality; peeling it back like the skin on an orange because how could someone be 
so fucking wonderful?
and it's when you touch her that you doubt God because how could this be wrong in any language. the beauty of adoration makes Monet's gardens turn in shame but oh, the natural progression of the world, what comes up must come down, Newton's pessimistic fairy tale about how pointless it is to hope. but oh, hope. how she wraps us to her chest and holds us
through childhood fevers, the cool hand to a burning forehead, and promises that we'll feel better in the morning. to doubt in the existence of morning is what we've been taught; see, life really isn't
fair. she breathes sunshine, or so it seems, and we bathe in it. what comes up must come down. we kiss with our eyes on our watches and we steal the seconds from fate, that
but love is not patient. it hoards your attention and demands 'nownownow'. love is not kind. it soaks in your weakness and throws it back at you. love is desperate. love envies, it is greedy and shameless and childish. love boasts, it beams. but love is not proud, no. love is groveling. love is chasing. love is begging.
so it's completely natural to be a bit of a 'debbie downer' 
when it comes to these things but love is the 
making-your-favorite-meal and 
kind of excellent. in fact, it's so perfect that it doesn't quite make sense why you're lucky enough to indulge. it's the perpetual guilt complex, instilled by years of being constantly humbled. 
so instinctively, at the sight of anything good, we have reason to start to wonder.
i guess
if this is a dream then the whole world is inside it. even if being, if reality, if love only exist in the mind then maybe 
that's okay with me. things are going pretty
smooth as they are.
as of Tuesday, i've been admitted to my dream college. i will be moving to a big city next fall and i am staring my fears in the face. i will change under times square and to be honest, i don't know in what way. i do not know who i will become but i bet it'll be 

letters to erin

and love if you ever left me for a rocketship

i'd look at your stars and
close these camera eyes

hang the pictures with scotch tape
to every wall of my mind.

Monday, November 1, 2010

i'm not as sad [as i used to be]

i curl up with my computer and her body
around me like a conch shell
swirling and swirling and there is never enough endless
for me; oh restless petal!
you fall from the arms of my sky to the body of my earth

Friday, October 29, 2010

there are lots of sleeping things that i love about you

Thursday, October 28, 2010

letters to erin

i want to be the bookmark to your page
the shortcut to your maze
that first bright minute
of a thousand days.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

there's a certain
whisper in your voice when you say my name a
quiver of something secret in the back of your chest
that only maybe i hear.

imagine my surprise when
you told me it was love
imagine my surprise when
you loved me back.

you tell me i'm a loser and laugh
with the last few syllables; push
my shoulder away from you and i sway
with the movement i lean
with your hand. such a small secret simple
i am yours forever.

letters to erin

i don't know how i survived
but i did

and then i met you
and that was pretty cool.

a memory

down down down

ever felt guilt
closing around your throat?
i try to forget the up down hornets nest
in my brain
the boundless waves of
and every single flower is always dead or
might as well be.

i try to forget the day
they broke the door down; i was
sitting against the wall carving
myself like a pumpkin.
there is no glamour in the sadness and
hollywood starlets soaking into the rug,
it hurt very badly
i cried like a fucking baby.

this is not poetry this is not poetry

a nurse named Ruta changed the bandages. she
looked at me like a mother hen and
tut-tutted with her mouth and her eyes.
Ruta was very kind.

my hand still shakes and doesn't
bend like it used to
[they tell me it will pass]

this is not poetry

dying saved my life, i will never
lock the door again
you won't have to break it down.

Monday, October 25, 2010

it's hard to breathe with a cross on your chest.

"my soul is made of leaves
trembling at your touch
my heart is on a mountain
and you're closer than the sun"

you make me wonder, at night when
i'm awake and you're awake and we don't say a word,
if maybe the great wooden pews and
nuns [whom i always thought looked a bit like
and men with large hats and large voices
were wrong.
i was a child staring into the great
frozen faces of martyrs and listening about how much bad there is
and why it's all our fault.

maybe someone like you
could be it.
do you want to run away?
lets run away.

Saturday, October 23, 2010


i like when we stay in
and you sing shakira and usher and lil jon.
and songs that are 'in totally spanish' or mock my sentences that 'have too many much's in them'
or when i edit hilary clinton into your photos
or a dramatic rendition of the little mermaid.

this is probably the best Saturday night

Friday, October 22, 2010

love is an everything you never know you need.

so we'll fold our notes into little boats
for a hope that every inch touching my fingers at the shore
might touch yours,

and eventually isn't a day i can count
though i try with my eyes shut tight and my mind
tracing your mind; oh!
there is a vast sea inside of me
and your inches on the water
will always reach.

i have fallen in love with two people
my city light and in the shine of her eye
i met myself.

it had been a very long while since i had shaken my own hand.

Thursday, October 21, 2010


and sometimes I think to myself;
recovery is an illusion and my misery
lays waiting in repose.

I was born to a little box
inside my chest where i could lay
plans and blueprints and check the storm door
that's the danger with love, isn't it? not that
someone will break your heart but that
with your heart open;
you will break something

and the water will come rushing in.

i am not scared this time
aren't i supposed to be scared?
i am not scared this time.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010


sometimes i think that maybe i am just telling myself that i am happy now
a coma or dream or any other sort of thing
one would need waking up from
sometimes i think i will greet misery like an old friend.

but when i see the 'us' we've become
and i am sort of amazed
by the things i can do

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

these are not talented words; they are true and simple and i cannot keep them in

so i'll write a thousand love poems
because i know that maybe one word
one sentence one
might convey an ounce of what i feel
and i have to try.
i will try
for you.


i am in love with a hilarious
fucking gorgeous

i will not apologize.

Monday, October 18, 2010

the little changes we're not meant to notice.

god is a farmer and i think i'm a seed

god is a preacher and i think i'm a sieve.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

le noir oiseau [the blackbird]

she calls me back from halfway out the door
"i can see the
shoots of feathers
under your skin i can see the waiting in your bones"
i call to her from the bed
"i will see the
places you have seen
i will follow"

Saturday, October 16, 2010

if you can then i'm coming to get you, if you call then i'm coming now.

i am as meticulous and pointless as latticework in a graveyard and
you are clean and bright
like a bell.

i want to stay the week
please let me stay the week


it's a void bursting with
colors and noises and camera eyes moving with your sleep

like the taunt
i burn
under this heart.

Friday, October 15, 2010


mark this date, on October 15th 2010 at 2:34 PM
I, miserable empty cynical I, am utterly

mark the date, on October 15th 2009 at 2:34 PM
i most certainly wasn't

Thursday, October 14, 2010

a bed of roses has nothing on your thorns.

and you live in a little space
behind my eyes so
what i see you see
and the watercolors,
you paint them for me.

maybe religion is in the way
we say goodnight.

coming home someday.

and when they talk about god and religion
and right and wrong
i hope they leave a little bit of space in the margin
for you and me.


and if you had the flu
i wouldn't mind your germs

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

oh, the way your body moves
back and forth like a tremble
of the friction of the air
sliding past you like a star.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

love poems.

and if you were made of leaves
they'd write stories about me
scouring the trees
for every last piece.

this is because i'm breathing

you're the type to
roll up those sleeves and dig

dig and dig until you find china and little

far far far away from me.

Monday, October 11, 2010

this is because i'm sleeping


some words don't make sense until you get a little older

and endless torrent

your veins are pathways and roadways and traintracks and i'd
down every single one of them until the soles of my feet turn black until
i know you better than the back of my eyelids

if the government was to ration our words to 100 a day
i will start a revolution i will burn the flag and if they lock me away
and bend me to the laws
i'd still use 99 of mine
to tell you that i love you
and the last for an 'always'

pictures only prove we can't convince.

lets run away and get engaged just to say we did it
i want to remember you as every single

Sunday, October 10, 2010

the days i spent without you weren't spent but saved.

she says
"your scars are like tree branches and i want to
every single one just to say i can. i want to see the skin

no one has has ever wanted to see
the before.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

it will be easy. i will make it easy.

you live in a tiny room inside my
hands[which doesn't sound very romantic but it
you bend and move my strings for me so i don't have to try so
hard all the fucking time. i've blurred into something fast and wonderful and i
for you.
and pour into an ocean. any other girl would stare at the sunset and think
'that is very beautiful'
but you stare at the ocean and think
'it must be very lonely
to be so vast'

and that is why you're beautiful
and that is why i am yours

Friday, October 8, 2010

this whole city.

scoop up the wonderful and put her in my pocket

the moon and the stars and the salt

and scoop up the wonderful and
put her
in the sea

baby, sing sing sing me to sleep

Monday, October 4, 2010

blah blah blah

i know none of you really give a fuck about my life and i
try to remain anonymous, because it doesn't matter who i am
if you find truth in words, they belong to you.
so this is one of the few personal posts.

six boys are dead
because they were harassed or called

when did a word become that powerful? a single three letter word
became something so frightening that someone would end their
rather than be labeled that.

do you know how it starts? it starts with one person who calls the boy in class
because he speaks with a higher voice or the girl who plays softball
is a dyke.
see, you don't have to say it to their face, or even to other people.
every time you think it in your mind, it becomes a little more
acceptable in society.

it should never be acceptable. we are people.
we are anyone, everyone. we are people
and we are not a word.

let me tell you about the beautiful parts of who i am.
i love the smell of coffee and fireplaces and old books
i hold the door open for people
i believe in God and i know he still believes in me
i have worked at a homeless shelter every week for over a year.
i am 19 years old and i love myself
and i love every single one of you

i know what a woman's bare shoulder blades look like in the sun
after making love.
i know what a girl's hand feels like in mine and how their lips
can capture every ounce of my world.
i know what butterflies feel like
when i see my girl smile
i am a person
i am not a word.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

the morning at the great divide

everyone is something
to someone
there is too much to ever be alone.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

something quiet and clean where a hearts supposed to be,

it made you nervous, the game where she laid in the center of the giant bed
waiting for the prince's kiss
too pale, too small, too delicate
child's breathe close to her ear,
wake up wake up wake up

it made me nervous, the game where i opened my chest and drove to new york city
shaking a little too much for a princess kiss
skin like snowdrifts, willowtree wrists
softest lips to that ear,
sleep sleep sleep

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

softsnow, please don't melt.

go build a forest with trees too high to breathe
and all the perfect girls were just like rain
sliding off your back

wait for one who's like the snow
sticking to your shoulder.

wandering down the streetlamps
and suddenly you're everywhere i look.

Friday, September 24, 2010

for all your lies, you're still very lovable.

"you smoke too much"
cracked lips in december huddled with me on the porch and a taste of
something angry in her all the time
how are you supposed to love something
that can't stand you?

i'm beginning to see a crack in our plans.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010


you've put them up on needle legs
and hoped the wind didn't blow
everyone wants someone

to let them down.

Friday, September 17, 2010

attic to the left

and there would only be three sounds i would miss
the sound of my mothers necklace as she walks down the stairs
the sound of sighing
and the sound of absolutely nothing
on a cold night with the snow
kissing the sidewalk


iT was tHoughtful of you to sEnd flowers, theY brighten up my room wondefully. the doCtors tHink i'm doing wEll with the new mediCation and that i should maKe a full recovery. i Miss Your flowers in the morning certain days. have theM tAke pIctures for my bedside tabLe next time everyone comes around for dinner, it would be nice.

I can Say everyThing here is benefIciaL to regaining my heaLth and i am comfortabLe enOugh to eValuate somE of mY behaviOrs. i am trUely sorry.



Monday, September 13, 2010

if all your love is wasted

i was a branch and you were the tree, right?
smoking streets and lets do it just this time
you gave me something i could believe.
and the city lights were still bright for me

Sunday, September 12, 2010

then who the hell was i?

if i asked [very nicely]
could we go back to that first night
talking on the floor of my bedroom
about all the things we never knew we needed

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Friday, September 10, 2010

this will be enough.

if this all goes wrong
i just need you to know that it's okay.
we agreed, sink or swim
and i'm just happy that we made it to the water.