Monday, November 23, 2015


My breath doesn't prove anything
A pulse proves even less
I'm sure if I put my head on your chest
you'd prove your heart is beating
   (I'd convince myself it's intimacy
   imagining your heart is a god
   that hits snooze
   every time an alarm goes off
   because there is no god 
   where you sleep.)
I sigh and kick the dirt
afraid to tell you what I believe
I patch the ground I uncovered
hoping you notice how hard I worked

Sunday, November 15, 2015


I noticed how she sharpened knives
She offered warning
in the same breath
she watched my palm bleed
That woman is out of place
She lied about commonplace things
and excels at being captivating
 She is pain
 She is everything