To have been in love is to be impr… Every piece of art I have made fo… It is as if even my paintbrushes t… Are constructed from your hair The fact that atheism itself presc…
The first thing that comes to mind… Luminescent, a glimpse of the deep… You cannot help but wonder if he w… You cannot help but wonder “How d… Brilliant blue,
Love does not knock sweetly at the… Not like a new neighbor with warm… It reaches its tentacles through t… Seeps through the cracks in the wa… Smears its residue on the window f…
Roadkill, Deformed fruit, The ticks I pry off of the dog an… Icarus, The stuffed elephant I still slee…
Be the rabbit The muted dust cloud of life, smal… But although slight, the sight of… He sits like the first buttercup o… A lost earring in a shag carpet
We are criminals. We are murderer… We set futures ablaze with the emb… We stuff black smoke down the thro… All while we clutch our own childr… But the battered mother still love…
A ritual turned to a riptide, it pulled you from us. “This is not you, it’s not you” I would whisper, clutching my own hands in something of my own kind of prayer while you tore through...
There’s a dead bird on the side of… Like the bodies at the lake floors… Except this one had the insolence… The poor, stupid thing must’ve flo… I thought
I know that you are afraid. The first tree to sing this April… It only knows the roar of the cree… Screams, indistinguishable from do… How should a tree know the sound o…
I keep having this beautiful dream where you hurt me because you know me It’s on a planet where we can finally live with ourselves, the both of us It sways me to sleep at night, like th...
An empty embrace. A hug between two shells, two empt… “Look at how grown you are, I cannot believe you are already d… This is how we operate.
Happy near August– the air felt like autumn today and I thought of you like our knees were still touching in the backseat of the cab. It made me wonder if maybe our story is stored in t...
You met a high school girl today. She was sat on the beach, wasn’t s… Her painted toes digging into the… Her hair told stories the way old… It whipped wildly against her spin…
Every summer’s Sunday for nine years had always been the same. My brother James and I would walk the uphill trail near our childhood home to reach a view over the reservoir. He would pa...
Feathers and delicate bones assemb… prescribed to them like shadows It’s just the way things are, we still walk to work. Sometimes, on our better days, we’…
