Dec 15

La Luna

she used to be amorphous,
she used to pour herself like wine 
into a glass and become a new shape. 
she used to cascade down rocks and leave 
bits of her soul in between crevices and cracks. 
she used to be inexorable, ineffable. 
but now i see her and i am overcome 
with the feeling of loss. 
like she’s gone somewhere without telling me. 
and i shake in my bed, under ten comforters but still somehow cold, just wishing i could grasp her warmth in my own hands and whisper to her as she sleeps
’please don’t ever grow up without me’
Nov 29

Today


Nine months since the baby has seen her mom,
But she doesn’t speak like us,
so she’s gone.
And who cares about the animals,
being torn apart by poachers,
acting like cannibals
standing on shaky ground,
because the ice can’t handle the warmth of their paws.
And Trump has yet to make a sound
We’ve got policies after policies, protecting white murderers,
But when a woman screams for help,
Our country would rather torture her, 
Then lend a hand, 
and capture the man,
who gave her the baby
that she can’t take care of,
But she can’t get rid of it,
Cause people would judge her quick,
And he is suffering alone,
Cause the mirror doesn’t show
what should be shown. 
He knows this body isn’t his but somehow it is.
And this is the country that we now live in,
And only some are paying attention.
Nov 13

vous devez penser que je suis seul

vous devez penser que je suis seul ... et je le suis. Je m'ennuie de la façon dont tes cheveux me chatouillaient l'oreille. vos pieds froids sur ma cuisse me manquent. et tes ombres sur les murs de ma chambre ont disparu. vous devez penser que je suis seul. et je suis. 


you must think that I am alone ... and I am. I miss the way your hair tickled my ear. i miss your cold feet on my thigh. and your shadows on the walls of my room are gone. you must think that I am lonely. and I am
Oct 26

I like early morning

I get scared of speaking and i don’t like tomatoes. 
I don’t have a ‘type’ but I do have typewriter. 
I sleep until nine am and i work six days a week. 
I cant drive but I can skateboard and 
my fears seem to chase me in the light. 
I have four pets. 
Two dogs. 
One fish. 
One chameleon. 
I havent yet achieved my dreams and i like milk in my tea. 
My true love was sculpted by Athena and my enemy, Ares. 
I am a Cancer, although i was almost a Leo. 
I was born late and since then i’ve only been early. 
Making up for lost time. 
I hate math but i love art. 
And you probably didn’t care about the things i’ve said in this poem. 
You probably don’t care to get to know me, 
Or care if i like pineapple on pizza (i do) 
You probably aren’t contemplating my choice of caps and Punctuation. 
Athough now you probably are. 
But i felt the Need to write this. 
Oct 26

My One

there could be fifty thousand people watching us 
and i’d still only have eyes on you. 
there could be an eclipse above us, but my attention 
would be on you. 
there could be galaxies and oceans and they could tell me all their secrets but i’d still only want to know yours. 
there could be eight billion people surrounding my soul, 
but the only one i’d smile for would be you, my love. 
i could be dying but id still laugh for you, my dear. 
i could starve in a desert and still be home for tea time, my darling. 
i could never be away from you.
that is my promise, my One. 
 
Oct 17

coward

 my hands tap
tap tap
on my page
and I can feel my aphantasia  
clicking like a clock,
my eyes focused,
then unfocused.
Like a camera lens trying to see in the dark.  
and my mind is tap tap tapping
on my skull and spine telling me to move
but my numbed joints scream in protest
so I stay down.  
‘Coward!’  my brain tells me.
Coward.  
Time speeds up and then slows,
my ears popping with the change.
There’s a quiet ringing in my head but it still drowns out the noise around me.  
every nerve in my body is tense and taught and tipped to the very top of their threshold.  
my body feels like a harp;
Like it could make music at the hands of a master.
I can’t feel my self imploding
but I know it’s happening
and I have a cure but my hands are tied
and to be honest
I would rather die then
fall to the feet
of some invisible deity

 
Oct 15

who could

Oct 15

i hate you

it was about three days ago, when i first noticed it. 
like a slight change in the weather or 
like when someone taps you on your shoulder and then runs away. 

it was subtle, the way i realized i hated you. 

the way way i hated your square features and grey eyes. 

I remember it it well because i was just thinking about 
how much i love you, when it hit me. I was smiling to myself about you 
when i realized how much i hate you. 

and what ive realized is it is not the kind of hate 
that you see in a movie, where they hate you because they love you. 
no. 
i just hate you. 
i hate you for telling me i’m less than
i hate you for breathing and i hate you for 
hating yourself and 
i hate your dumb smile and i hate your laugh and 

hate 
you,
because,
you hate you,



 
Oct 11

i fell in love with your hair


i fell in love with your hair, 

the way it smelled on Sunday morning,

just before your coffee and right after your shower. 

But now i realize that it wasn’t you I loved, 

at least not at the end. 

At the end, i fell in love with your shampoo, and the memories the smell held. 

But just not....

you. 
Sep 21

i am


when I told you,
my heart stopped.
my hands shook
as my phone screen
illuminated my face. 
i felt like a coward,
for not looking you in
the eye,
for not telling you in person
but i couldn’t stand 
the thought of disappointing 
you; of taking away your 
daughter— turning her
into a taboo. but that 
taboo as i now know 
is who i am. and i have 
found a kingdom of
people just like me. 
a kingdom of taboos. 
where pride is the king,
and love is the queen. 

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