...to the shrimp...

here is my offering of an unpolished friendship
one that is serrated and can cut deep enough to scar...
but i will pour myself through this strainer
so these healthy pieces of me can fill you up
and use white-out on my imperfections
so that your story remains perfect
because we can never see past these bridges we've built
in order to block our horizons
but i'm alright when you're alright...
stomachs often hold on to hurt much longer
than hearts do
creating a corset wall to block out anything that means something
while in these grey skies we thrive
leaving shadows across our eyes...
sharp stings revive us
and we are never more alive then when we are damaged and departed...
the wind fills us up with negative space
while we draw our insecurities across our backs
and all float away separately...
even though i don't have the glue or strength to hold you,
shattered together,
with mountains and skyscrapers that keep you in your fortress...
i can build you a break
to free your somber branches
because you cant stop thinking
and bends eventually break when
your face is all wet from things i cant fix...
ill like your depression
and swollen wrists...
because we are all
helpless and withered at some point

interpersonal swimming pool: sections of the deep end

life is not the same now
smiles graze these sullen cheeks
like those who shine sunlight
but my being remains dark
like the shadows
i place myself
in

why stay?
in this place
frequent thoughts
speak with much
persuasion

i tend to feel best when my
eyes are closed
so i think just may stay
this way for
a while

and happiness is nothing
but a liar
it said it would always
be there
and being is nothing but a game
because it steals pieces of you
when you need them the
most

i feel like a stranger
in my most comfortable
skin
and while i watch these
eyes water to the top
i secretly ring them out
until they are dry...
so no one
sees

and for a moment,
i thought the world of
life
but the sun sank
and the oceans burned
dark...

i think ill roll my pants
and walk into this ocean
so that the water only graces my
feet

just to lick these wounds until
they are clean again
so they may be stitched and left
to heal without any noticeable
scars

because these photographs keep me
alive
but i for now remain
stale

tired corners and windows of aries.

i like the way you fit so nicely
into the corner of my heart
a place where it can't be taken
but won't ever be reached again

i have packed my bags
and while it is heavy on my shoulders
and hurts my heart to leave
i feel content to be traveling
away from something
i won't ever forget

so lend me a minute
lets make this right...
but right doesn't mean any more
than an ease of a heart
once broken...
and now content

now i build my profile out of glass,
one that easily shatters
but is even easier to see me inside
no more hiding
because it doesn't take much to get me
it just takes time to understand

i like your silhouette,
and everything that it interprets
but i am not done looking
so i'll stand here a little longer

because i am ok.
i am just fine
i have sewn pieces back together
and even though they have thicker thread
they have learned to let loose when needed

i now see
that metal hearts and armoral
aren't always safe
and clean dashboards are often unnecessary

i lend you this map of me
from minds to you
so keep it on your shelf
just in case you need reference...
a way out of corners and shadows

because far too often
light sheds light
in the most unexpected places

migration.

life lives
words speak
hearts bleed
leaving summer flesh bruised
with splotches of life cut too short,
and broken window fixes for those
who can't seem to find happiness...
so they steal others

my muscles hurt from too much work
and my veins are swollen from lost friendships
once placed on pedestals of california beginnings

spring brought full hearts,
but summer left one broken
and fast came health which shattered
into tubes of research i tend to sleep in
more often than my bed

true friendships reigned through
insecure others insecurities...
those who bring comfort and ease
with little effort

now,
the summer's blood rushes somewhere silent
while words with meaning disappear into memories

but,
fall is fragile and weak in the knees...
hearts and bodies freeze broken until spring
fills their pockets with new water

tonight,
i sit on this back porch and unravel everything
turning these days into old days,
days worth remembering

vacancy: the ballad of broken cigarettes

a justification for the broken hearted and wounded souls
i felt much better before it all
my heart was safe.

but with you
we can set our hearts on fire
and though they will eventually turn to ash...
watching them burn will make it worth it.

we will become fragments
of fingertips and motions of lips lost
in trains of irrationality and whirlwinds.

and while these statues of apollos wait with belated breaths
we will sit..
on this fresh cut grass
to graciously gasp each other in.

but one day our bodies will sit
in silence
even though our minds break words
only long enough to take a thought.

words that mean more than words
will never be let out
but much thought overtime
which will ultimately lead to our deterioration.

regardless for this time being
you ease my mind from left hands and achilles heels...
so i am content with the stories
these walls will never get to tell.

your architectural functioning
leaves me lost in equations
and for once..
simplicity feels nice.

my heart stopped beating a while ago
so i must apologize
but my veins still manage to pump enough blood to sustain me...
and keep me on this floor we sit on.

your lips don't compare..
and your feet are too clean...
i think that's what i like best about you.

the world is a place
where hearts are combined but
plagued with an overbearing sense of crumbling dysfunction.

insecurities mask unwanted hurts
and cold shoulders hide forbidden feelings
from once loved collarbones.

I like how
you like the way
i disintegrate.

lets crumble together.

no hearts included.

ivory

let's undress these street lights

while we crack to peel these stars from collision

and share thoughts formed from hand soap bubbles

repetition in a modern sewer...

limbs like oil
water like minds
we come together in perfect layers
and separate exceptionally