were deer predators,
what would be the fate of hunters trapped alone in the woods?
with naught but their gun and bright orange hats
camouflaged against the trees or their stands

you think you've gotten lucky, a doe passing by you
it may not be hunting season yet, but? no one will know
you raise your barrel, take aim, shoot
but you miss, and now she stares right through you

snarling and baring her teeth,
what is your fate, trapped alone in the woods with a doe?

god forbid you miss and are unfortunate enough to be paces away from a buck,
rack big enough to count to twelve
and you miss your shot and he turns towards you
and suddenly, the prey is you

charging, antlers headed for your skull
what is your fate, trapped alone in the woods with a buck?

or a herd. i'd hope someone is looking after you above
and i pray you don't slip and fall and they realize you're there

you know, i never meant to say anything to you.

it just happened, those little flashes of eye contact
when i'd find that you were looking at me across the room while our teacher read
it was a good poem, porphyria's lover
i remember thinking, what if it was i who was choking?
would it be you?

i wanted to make sure you were alright
i wasn't sure if you were serious when you mentioned failing your test
and i treated it like you'd been joking, for that's what i default to
but you weren't
and i'm sorry.

an ode to you, a dramatic monologue
read aloud with our principal in the room
it was me reading it
our teacher had never called on me before to read and i never understood why
but i think i know now.

i love your voice. i really do.
i just was too afraid to come off too strong
i thought you gave that look to other girls, and it was never just me

golden hair spilling from confines of a braid,
shimmering skin pale against the darkness of mine
your eyes are closed, but i know the color that lies behind your lids

a beautiful green, tinged with the blue of the sea
your eyes only serve to complement the rest of you
though i find myself lost in every inch

you curve in the water, skin bare
legs outstretched, a delicate curl inward
dainty? no. but, maybe, yes.

sleeping soundly, not even my gunshot will wake you
though you asked me to stay by your side
you needn't've

i would've stayed anyway

your hands delicate in mine, your smile the same
makes my heart aflutter everytime your lips curl upward
those lips only i can kiss

in the water, you're still unlike anyone else
as you've always been
your eyes, they open, and ours lock

of course i join you, shedding my clothing as fast as it'll fly off

ironic bit of fantasy
glassy eyes and shiny noses
nonsense in a world of chaos

doesn't make sense to carve your way through the darkness
when there's a path lit by the lanterns
yet blocked by a crowd

nobility
stained glass
pieced together

you don't see it as anything special
and that's okay
reflect on what you see, not what you don't

red eyes and bruised knees
a wailing cry
sweat

the stones set in their way
lead to somewhere you dont know
the only clue is the old footsteps worn with time

whose steps are they?
unknown

do they matter?
unknown

will you follow?
unknown

don't need to make a choice yet
but don't let yourself get shoved onto the first step
take your time

or, if you really want
throw yourself into the dark unknown
and carve your own.

when i heard those noises from behind my house,
i didn't expect to see dark inquisitive eyes
and a twitching snout
right by my firepit

i didn't expect to see that young fox looking at me.
i wasn't much of a threat, apparently,
because he turned and went back to
doin' what he was doin'

not long after, i was walking where he'd been
stepping among the leaves,
i scared away some roosting wild turkeys
who squalked and glided further down the cliff

so, mr. firepit fox
if you were trying to catch one,
i think you might've missed dinner for today.
better luck next time !

 

when i can't sleep
i crack open a book
one of weird, mostly unknown facts
that my brother stole from my mom's bookshelf
and i, in turn, stole it from his dresser.

it's got things in it i've never even thought about
tooth decay from back in the era of the crusades
weird things popes have done
strange communities that i've never heard of
just things that you don't see everyday.

it helps me sleep, staring at words
no matter what they say.
i won't remember it in the morning (probably)
just those strange incidents in history
that would be forgotten if they weren't written.