Confessionsthere’s a lot I never told youMore Like This
1. I have a habit of lying, about
the simple things (like, yes I
forgot to remember and I swear by
soul mates and I’m in love
with your susurrus voice
and no, I’m really doing fine).
It was not an act of infidelity because
I believed it, too.
2. I’m infatuated with the concept
that I am more or less fictional, the
delusive beauty a million men will
dedicate novels to: I am fragile,
a dust angel sent to save the world
from commonalities and
3. Since I’m not allowed
to remember your name
I will commemorate you
in acts of escapism,
killing off the pieces
of the person you left behind.
4. I believe in a past life
I was a bird with a tendency
towards tall buildings; the sorry kind
of bird with heavy bones and crumpled wings
who never quite learned
to fly away.
5. I miss you. I used to think
you were a person, but now I know
you’re the happiness I will never
6. I'm sorry.
This is a Love PoemI must admit to less than innocent thoughtsMore Like This
about the lithe lengths of your frame
and the mysteries crowding in your eyes,
clouded over with ecstasy (or affection,
that word in the English language
forgotten in place of more life-threatening
controversies, taking value over the
fire-warmed embers of necessity and want).
We cannot be ephemeral, not when life
is the longest prison sentence I’ve been
inflicted with, and I still remember the scent
of your surreptitious skin when we
renamed conspiracies as derivations from
our [single] definitive state of unliving,
an ineffable defiance of
misery’s inevitable subjugation.
i am a magenta february.WinterMore Like This
is still clinging
to my skin,
sleeping within the tangles
of my night witch hair.
65 days to learn
& Icarus, with his
sun kissed fingers
my throat, giggles
knowingly in my ear.
I have misplaced my
of a heart
so many times,
I’m not even sure
it ever existed
they never lie-
Covered in frost
I am a magenta
the imprint of teeth
that bruised centuries
& bed sheets.