The fortitude of my emotions strangles the process. How do I back down to then prevail?

The division between the internal and the external can be the line. Mining all my worry into dust. The sifting of sorrow — breaking thoughts, shaken clean.

So maybe that time is now, to belly-up the divide.

I’m holding the guilt of my mother — I can curve that into the light.

And the weight of my lover…I have to give up sight and find our freedom in trust.

I’m screaming out the silence of my feel — a multi-directional break. How it takes so much more to control.

So I gather myself at the window, perched high and at noon. The brightest star, traveling through. Blinding me still.

“Just take me with you,” I pray. Hoping to scare myself free.

So now, I document.

I believe I’m going to London to attend Goldsmiths University to study sonic arts. I say “I believe” because I have a few more hoops to jump through to make sure I’m able to go (financing/visa). But I’ve been accepted and will be there for a year. It’s a switch/a jump/the difference between light and dark/near and far/zero and one.

But I struggle with it. I struggle with it because it’s a risk. Which pushes me to go even more. And I’m not sure, but I might not be going alone, which would double the risk in so many directions. Either way, it’s a definitive mark, which makes me feel more and more that I have to go.


the fastest eater

sometimes the love just floats me. enough. and at this moment, it’s all i have left. it’s still the only thing i look forward to. the only thing that wakes me up and aligns the forms.

i’ve never had a reason to push beyond. not even enough reason from just myself. i’ve never felt enough for just me.

but then i look into a world, hovering in blue, and i peer into forever. where i’m distraught with the fear of letting go. and i feel this delicate balance i’m walking right next to — afraid of my tumble, my steps, shivering — and i see a look so pure that this world becomes a single flake, floating down. the slightest tinge of its cold touches me. my skin, then bursts with its spark, flaming my existence into a wildfire, burning everything around me.

so then, i know.
that i have to become. more into myself than i’ve ever known.

forever searching for the sound of his laugh. the one from his gut that strangles my air. pushing me to the front. telling me to hear.

hundred waters made me do it

i guess it has taken me a while

to view the synopsis of your heart —

a reconfigured alley way

where only the rain enters in —

black-hole-puddles, forming,

waiting to breathe with my steps

splashing through and in,

to the other side.


it’s my mistake that i never saw

the opportunity to rise above

that time i asked you

who she was


i guess i just got lost

along the/your way


i just don’t get it.

because you’re still an asshole. just like your father. with the lines on your face forming your regrettable past, yet still tanned and fulfilled from your summers in Cabo.

and i’m here. always here. restrained. a tide to the moon. every fucking season.

despising my mother for forgiving you. silenced by the shock of friends still supporting you.

wanting to blanket the world with a moment that will play in my head. over and over again. forever.

of being in the dark. with only my arms to shield me. from the force of your hand. shattering me light.

into nothing.

:on being happy

the position of the rear view mirror sits right at my sight.
so my glance repeats and i drive, on
a summer day with leather seats.
and all i’m left to think
are all the cars
passing me by.

i make the farthest of drives to places i’ve already been.
memories of colorless dreams. the same scenes.

i watch myself walk out of all the doors.
motioning hello.
with an employable kindness, tanned knees.
wearing grey and soft pinks.
while the me i’ve never known
sticks to the seats.
a hiccup defeat.


asking over and over again,
“how do i get
to me?”

pheel phree

I’ve only recently realized that I don’t have to quiet the shadows anymore. Your shape hearkens them still. I understand it’s a liability, relinquishing my logic to the curve of your arm, but practice makes perfect and I haven’t slept for days.

so it’s time to feel something new. a malnourished diatribe balancing on the bricks of love. a form away from myself. traveling the channels. walls, insane.

and find the moment within myself that sheds the light away.