he writes where city sirens wail.
A whisper slipped between the words-
too fleeting,
yet by design.
We read,
we wonder:
was it mine?
some people are constellations
you don’t notice
until they’re gone
their light arrives late
and that’s how you learn
love moves
faster than time
but slower than grief
some people are constellations
you don’t notice
until they’re gone
their light arrives late
and that’s how you learn
love moves
faster than time
but slower than grief
when i die
don’t bury me deep
leave me where the roots
can find a story worth retelling
let the worms debate
what kind of man i was
until their argument becomes soil
#poetry
when i die
don’t bury me deep
leave me where the roots
can find a story worth retelling
let the worms debate
what kind of man i was
until their argument becomes soil
#poetry
we orbit
one another
across years
dim planets
bound by
old gravity
every argument
small eclipse
every touch
sun returning
#poetry
we orbit
one another
across years
dim planets
bound by
old gravity
every argument
small eclipse
every touch
sun returning
#poetry
to the window beside me
drawn to a cheap lamp
i whisper
light isnt love
but i understand the mistake
we all make it
more often than we say
to the window beside me
drawn to a cheap lamp
i whisper
light isnt love
but i understand the mistake
we all make it
more often than we say
the sky is too big
for our small talk
so we invent gods
to translate static
I listen
and somewhere between pulse and void
I almost hear
myself not thinking
#poetry
the sky is too big
for our small talk
so we invent gods
to translate static
I listen
and somewhere between pulse and void
I almost hear
myself not thinking
#poetry
I met god once
in an empty rest stop
off I-95
his eyes were the vending machine lights
and he said
nothing
but my card was declined
and I thought
yeah
that feels about right
#poetry
I met god once
in an empty rest stop
off I-95
his eyes were the vending machine lights
and he said
nothing
but my card was declined
and I thought
yeah
that feels about right
#poetry
3 a.m.
and I am the only
awake organism
on this block
the streetlight flickers like doubt
and I wonder
how many versions of me
are still out there
thinking they’re the original
#poetry
3 a.m.
and I am the only
awake organism
on this block
the streetlight flickers like doubt
and I wonder
how many versions of me
are still out there
thinking they’re the original
#poetry
I wake to the hum
of the refrigerator’s sermon
nothing ends
it just cools
for a while
I brush my teeth like absolution
watch the foam swirl down
into that small white eternity
and think
maybe the drain
knows more about release
than I ever will
#poetry
I wake to the hum
of the refrigerator’s sermon
nothing ends
it just cools
for a while
I brush my teeth like absolution
watch the foam swirl down
into that small white eternity
and think
maybe the drain
knows more about release
than I ever will
#poetry
the bus exhales at dawn
and the city opens one bleary eye
another rent’s due
another billboard screams paradise
for $9.99 a month
we trade minutes for cigarettes
half burned, still wanting
our life flickers in the glow
of a cracked phone screen
#poetry
the bus exhales at dawn
and the city opens one bleary eye
another rent’s due
another billboard screams paradise
for $9.99 a month
we trade minutes for cigarettes
half burned, still wanting
our life flickers in the glow
of a cracked phone screen
#poetry
the barista knows the revolution
would start here if anyone
had the courage to finish a sentence
before checking the clock
espresso shot like a heartbeat
recycled dreams in paper cups
we talk in lowercase manifestos
punctuated by pings
#poetry
the barista knows the revolution
would start here if anyone
had the courage to finish a sentence
before checking the clock
espresso shot like a heartbeat
recycled dreams in paper cups
we talk in lowercase manifestos
punctuated by pings
#poetry
chant data, debt, desire
smoke rising from our mouths
like broken prayers
the city hears us
and hums along
chant data, debt, desire
smoke rising from our mouths
like broken prayers
the city hears us
and hums along
who stopped believing
in everything but gravity
and overdraft fees
who stopped believing
in everything but gravity
and overdraft fees
I walk past the
street corner prophets
their voices cracked
open like vinyl
and I swear
the moon is just
a tired lightbulb
burning on
jacked power
but still
some of us dance
in the half-lit street
barefoot and
unashamed
as if the world
could be
reborn
in rhythm
#poetry
I walk past the
street corner prophets
their voices cracked
open like vinyl
and I swear
the moon is just
a tired lightbulb
burning on
jacked power
but still
some of us dance
in the half-lit street
barefoot and
unashamed
as if the world
could be
reborn
in rhythm
#poetry
the moon leans
on the shoulder of the river
it’s not looking for reflection
just company
and every ripple says what i mean-
stay a little longer
#poetry
the moon leans
on the shoulder of the river
it’s not looking for reflection
just company
and every ripple says what i mean-
stay a little longer
#poetry
my timeline’s a lit cigarette
half-ash, half-algorithm
truth wears a hoodie and hums lo-fi jazz
while god updates his privacy settings
#poetry
my timeline’s a lit cigarette
half-ash, half-algorithm
truth wears a hoodie and hums lo-fi jazz
while god updates his privacy settings
#poetry
I saw minds burning on the freeway
souls hitchhiking through jukebox galaxies
each whisper a protest
each heartbeat a cracked drum
and I said yes
the world is too loud to die quietly
#poetry
I saw minds burning on the freeway
souls hitchhiking through jukebox galaxies
each whisper a protest
each heartbeat a cracked drum
and I said yes
the world is too loud to die quietly
#poetry
like blood through glass
each pulse quieter
than the one before
I carry the silence
as if it were language
& almost remember
what it said
maybe it told me
where I left myself
in the wreckage of yesterday
maybe it whispered
that forgiveness
is forgetting
in a softer voice
like blood through glass
each pulse quieter
than the one before
I carry the silence
as if it were language
& almost remember
what it said
maybe it told me
where I left myself
in the wreckage of yesterday
maybe it whispered
that forgiveness
is forgetting
in a softer voice