1. "becoming enough"

    i get so bored 
    so sad
    i write you letters
    and put them in a drawer
    most of them are very sweet
    i hope some day
    you’ll want to see them
    i’d show you if you wanted
    i hope it’s some day soon
    i don’t know why
    i do the things i do
    but if i become enough
    you’ll love me 
    you’ll have to
    maybe when you get 
    where you’re going
    maybe i’ll be there too
    i think that would be enough
    it has to be enough

    3 weeks ago  /  17 notes

  2. "get over it/ waiting for a call"

    I could die and would you feel
    what’s left in you
    I could be an astronaut
    I could love the moon
    I could give away all my stuff
    and move to Milwaukee
    and become a laser light show
    operator
    but I want to love you
    I want to hear your voice
    late at night I want to hear it
    early in the morning
    I want to taste you and
    see your skin really close up
    raised up little bumps all over
    gentle wet kisses on the soft
    parts of your legs
    I only ever knew you
    counting back from three
    like you could explode
    I’m never looking backwards
    I know you remember everything
    it’s weird to think-
    and I know you don’t miss me!
    and I know you once loved me!
    and it’s so fucking lame
    to be someone else’s bad memories
    to be something you move past-
    get over, but I’m still me 
    I’m still here. still waiting
    for a call

    3 weeks ago  /  23 notes

  3. "poetry is dope!"

    i am so happy to be alive
    i miss you all the time
    if you weren’t alive
    i would cry
    i am being serious
    i want to date you
    fervently
    i want to look at you
    more often
    i am so happy to be here
    right now

    1 month ago  /  34 notes

  4. "Dissected"

    You are remembered.
    While laughing,
    they pull their knees together
    and you’re in the space
    between.
    You are remembered
    for chasing at bees with
    a long handled tool
    for running your hands
    through your hair.
    You are not a lantern 
    on a lectern,
    or rocks in the woods.

    Does the song go naah nah nah?
    Do other children meet you
    in their dumb dreams?
    Does it whistle you to 
    be anything at all?
    To be light, reflected?

    Moving on, here is the 
    bed where you were made
    aching and lust turned
    inside out.
    Still on, the blacktop where
    you skinned your knee
    you wore proof of this place
    until you died.
    Look around for signs of you.
    Further, another bed
    another broken promise,
    a cycle- like everything,
    but you knew that going in.
    One more, the lake at dusk,
    I don’t need to say 
    anything here.

    Consider this photograph 
    of a human heart, briefly.
    Here’s another, dissected.
    Pockets and tubules and
    tissue and rust.
    Here is where the blood
    would run.
    Here are the names of the 
    features you see.

    1 month ago  /  6 notes

  5. "Eulogy"

    Sights and sounds and something else like swimming, dancing.
    I remember the bend of your elbow, the skin soft, moisturized.
    Bumpy leg skin taught and warm on my back, pulling inwards.
    Remember a hundred other things- phone calls, hushed crying.
    Breathless whispers, headaches, a pink toothbrush, driving alone and smoking up your absence.
    Being shaken awake by whispered fears- of insanity, of grave illness, of befuddled mediocrity- harmlessness, uselessness, old age.
    Wow! I remember night sweats and fits of chills, warm wash cloth eyes, looking up grateful and calm.
    I remember being beautiful, tan skin, tall and luminous, smoking a cigarette in the yard, shirt off while you watched.
    I remember hotel rooms, hot tubs, long drives, sex standing up.
    How sometimes you’d hang words from your mouth like a fly trap and I’d count to ten, sometimes still get caught.
    I remember four or five birthdays, old fears, eyes welled up, pouting.
    I remember the texts and the calls, love letters, hate mail, phone sex.
    Eyebrows, toenails, earlobes, sharp white teeth, sweet tongue, belly button, one nipple.
    O! Do you remember the cabin on Heart Lake?
    Do you remember the three day migraine that got so bad I couldn’t stand up?
    How you coo’d and rubbed my back and I ground my teeth, weeping.
    Do you remember even half of the stories we told each other, well after midnight, total perfect darkness but I could see your lips moving.
    I don’t remember kissing you, I don’t remember the exact temperature of your forehead or the relative size of your hands.
    I don’t remember good things or bad things, I remember daffodils and the brightest flash of orange light.
    I don’t remember calling you awake to make sure you were there.
    I remember feeling lucky and sad and paralyzed with warm murky copper happiness.
    I remember your ass in those shorts.
    Ok, people die, people change, people get fatter, skinnier, new scars.
    People get their nipples pierced and marry ex-drummers.
    Fall in love and move on.
    A friend told me these things take time, I once saw him throw up blood and vodka in a parking lot.
    A pretty girl asked me my name and I said Mark.
    She looked expectantly and I looked right back, not exactly frowning.
    I’ll love you ‘til I die whenever that is.
    If you’re right and I’m wrong I’ll love you in hell, too.
    Goodnight, I miss you!
    Goodnight, it was swell!
    The stars are out, the moon is swollen, low, there’s lightning bugs and bats.
    There is a slow dance and a pulsing rhythm swinging back and forth.
    Somewhere a coyote howls and it sounds like your name or mine.

    1 month ago  /  10 notes