those tears in those eyes
they burn worse
– trust me –
salted wounds
in witnessing eyes;
they have nothing to do
with the repercussion stare

that smile burns too
it is an unbroken secret
sworn to silence
speaking volumes


everything we ever wanted

well this is all a handwritten message to him if i am being honest and i am not sure why i am doing it other than i want to and yes that likely makes me the kind of person who would do those kinds of things but what else would be true? nothing else would be true. nothing else; it’s in the realm of things i do.


Mussitations mumbles mummers: muttering some somethings felt. Details lost lips flitter flutter: eyelash cover too high a cost.  A passerby is prowling pouncing: a drive by with a subtle smirk. The moment leaving longing lingers: description blotted till obscured. Memory is minced until another moment passes, as concrete figures turn to form a projection shadowpast. A ghost’s still gazing grinning gripping: as time speeds inconsistently and legs regain their strength.  

cold front

I awake to eyes already staring at a ceiling. Blue eyes: not mine, upturned, unsleeping. I try to ignore their stare where it is focusing, unflinching: decidedly away from mine. I try to change the subject, try to shift feelings to my slight complaints, instead of starting, patching, speaking of some yesterdays’ revealed mistakes.

I try to change the subject, try to shift your feelings to my complaints, but I’m diverting clearly distracting, filling our airspace with my cluttercares, that, although possibly captured in the present, are passing without effort to not-even-theres. I’m treading lightly on your toes: an ever-so-slight unjust mistreatment. Do you believe all that I say? Are my confusion tactics viewed as deception?

I think, I question, won’t ask aloud, if I’m treading too heavily in your mind. I mean to, didn’t mean it, at least not in this way at this time. But lo and behold! A brusque casualty. Eye contact takes so slight a move. But given the parameters and the circumstances, I can’t say I’m undeserving, or that I don’t approve.

signed in stone

I am fluid
Existing pressed against boundaries
I am eclipsing
Blotting out your successes and defeats
I am too aware
Frustrating to watch, to hold on to
I am human
Living with the mistakes I choose to make

You can’t understand what you understand too well; you can’t understand what I’ve told you. Rhyming couplets: chosen sounds in pairwise lines (but they also contain some meaning). I mean it. I always mean what it sounds like. I always tell you what I say. Play confused, I cause confusion. With seconds ticking: don’t delay. I wrote myself a letter and I signed it with the date. I changed the cadence or the rhyme scheme to fix a faltered note off key. I changed some words making some plans, but it’s all the same to me. Left foot taking steps in one direction; right foot holding ground: a rooted tree.

I am waiting for a wall to be built, so I can push it to its limits. So I can find a weak point or a crack and break it down with one tiny devastation.


distance growing
borders blurring
just crumpled up
broke promises

words dissolving
melt to nothings
on beaten broken
bitten tongues

binding comments
form cement
and the effects
were not yet studied

counted causes
seem worthwhile
but wasted gains
seem more important

the decisions made
in present sense
speak volumes to
naive hindsight’s ignorance


Between his teeth afraid of teaming lies a scripted antifiction repressed feeling. A few chewed up words, just ‘I love you’s, swallowed to let another moment pass right by. Acquitted future’s present tense to focus on questions left wordless to bring a momentous mind to rest. Sorting out self-loathing the anxiety of a next-step falter. Staying in a lifeboat shore in sight, ebbing flowing waiting to learn to walk on water.