The paper is old and wrinkled
Tapered along the edges like a fairy’s carpet
Billowing outward, flowering, creases unfolding in waves.
Rising off the words is the scent of brown sugar, old parchment dancing on the kitchen island.

cradled in the peak of an eclipse my breath capsizes into
the fray
a shuddering recognition of lost time

we sit back on the river rock letting the waves trickle between our toes
wrinkling our fresh skin into prunes

how did we get here?

Everyday I bleed on paper,
(It looks prettier that way.)

Here I present to you my blood,
Crimson seeping through sheets,
Spelling out words that stitch themselves into sentences,
That become paragraphs and poems.

Demeter’s calloused hands inch towards mine
I taste each fingertip in the golden dust that sprinkles my scythe
Her pitying reflection in each bead of sweat that rolls down my earth
Wetting its molten core.
You are a shadow oil that spills and spreads

Morsel of fire-kissed stir-fried greens
Tossed, unmissed through clouds of steam
Hissed as they dished in the wok, has been
A familiar sight preceding my teens

Does it scare you?
Does it remind you of when you were young?
A thin dirt road unpaved and unexplored like your heart.

You were born at the bottom of an infinite whisky glass
Your dad isn’t ever gonna reach you.

i crave what i can’t reach.
burn me into an iris
i want the sun to love me

what is a god anyway?
these cicadas are singing all wrong

boil my bones
i’ll hold this family together

My temper is a candle, with it’s wick burning low
An impermanent cloud where I come and go
My mind is a cavern, where I bury things deep
So mostly I smile, but sometimes I weep
My body is a temple, at which I throw stones
The collisions break away soul, leaving only some bones

They do not tell you how it happens.
Ignoring the signs does not make them disappear.
The sadness has a voice now,
it speaks in moans and incoherent cries.

part 1: carmine
you want to see my heart?
go on then
haha
not what you expected?
here’s a secret: it never is.
oh, look at that— it’s still trying to beat
but the mice are already gnawing.
was that a grimace? how rude.

Tomorrow my heart will thunder.
rain will pour like a thousand tiny words

summer can swallow me whole.
I’m ready for an ending

the sunlight can eat me alive.
lay me down in the backyard.
I’ll fall right through the grass

Poetry is nothing

But everything

Dances in dreams

That vanish when you wake

Coffee and cream

With a taste of cake

Simplicity found

In a hard drive

Books bound

To stay in an archive

I have problems

and I’ll swap mine with you like trading cards.

Long lovely disorders go over the lips like chocolate

but honey, we’ve been writing about these pits of darkness

long before shrinks slapped name tags on them.