Jul 16

Red Warrior

He lays in my lap,
His red curls
A faded memory of sleep.
His eyes flicker open
And closed,
His slip-on shoes dangling from
His feet as he swings them
To a familiar tune.
My hands card through his hair; 
A silent oath of my love,
I can feel his untouched energy– even in
his early morning haze– 
Radiating off of him and
Into every direction.
A warrior,
Beautiful in his strong stance.
Jul 16


Jul 11


if secrets could be captured,
they’d roll right of your tongue,
and run down the drain;
begging to tell me what you heard. 
and maybe it’s a funny thing, 
because nothing in life matters,
but id sooner die 
then let you hurt her. 

Jul 11

Pretty Girls With Pretty Lies

Jul 08


To her
I was nothing more than a 
a new muse 
to paint 
and then remove along
with the spring cleaning. 

To her
I was nothing but a breathing flaw,
her calloused hands the answer 
to fix me

My tears were the footnotes no
one ever
cared to read. 
Jun 24

Brash in Brass

When we fight,

You get to walk away while 

I bleed out on your bed.

It leaves me with this empty feeling

Even if it’s over 

A painting 

That you see light in

That is just a bunch 

Of scribbles to me. 

Or if we fight over 

Jazz music 

Which seems to make you smile 

When it’s only a loud clustered 

Cacophony to me. 

Brash in brass. 


I take my synthetic smiles 

In the morning 

And pray 

That I won’t see 

A jazz player 

Or a 

Splatter painting. 
Jun 22

Borrowed Sweetness.

Her lips are red,
Borrowed sweetness
From my own. 

Her mouth leaks smoke,
From her lungs,
Limp cigarette hanging from her 
Red lips,
Borrowed sweetness. 

I remember the day
I tried to tell her that
they’d kill her. 

She just laughed,
Saying that
That was the point. 

To die slowly 
But painlessly. 

Until the end,
When it all crashed down,
And she faded out.

With nothing but a 
Burning cigarette 
Between those red lips,
Borrowed sweetness. 

Jun 17


Jun 14


Jun 14