irish goodbye.

Not worth the words I'd use
to destroy you.
I left you
counting on one hand
the syllables I'd mustered
amid your cacophony.
And they were all lies.
Not sorry, not tonight.

turtle tattoo.

You say you
mean me no harm.
Attempt to weaken my resolve
with your blade
pressed to my throat.
Tempting me
with a good time
but tonight I decline,
find greener pastures outside
decidedly away from you.

spring cleaning.

Your scent on my skin,
somehow.
I'm losing my mind
in the night
as Spring suddenly approaches.
Fearing the consequences
of your essence lingering too long,
I'll claw you from my dermis;
leave my bloody rind behind
for others to find
to warn of the dangers
of love unbloomed.

brine.

The waves are breaking,
something under the surface isn't right.
I'm watching from the shore
as words pour out my mouth.
Relax.
I've been holding my breath
for five years.
Open me up, unravel me.
My thoughts are a pool in the sand
ravaged by the tide.
There's a spark, but no flame.
And tomorrow's just another day
collecting salt.

new moon.

The tides have changed
so I begin my
ritualistic self-consumption,
as is customary
when the moon betrays me.
I'm scraping the sky for meaning.

intoxication.

This intoxication!
Your aura
sends my head away,
reeling for days.
I've lost track of my mind.
I'm spinning,
blissfully captivated!

no winners.

coming in hot
the little baby cries
when he doesn’t get his way
go on, pout
this has clearly been brewing
stomp around
act out
display your childish inclinations
lack of self awareness
ego clouds insight, always
it’s in the how, not the what
bro, let it go
there’s no winner here

more of you.

I visit your bones
in a box
in the ground
and wish
more of you
remained.

cracks.

Watching cracks begin to form
in my facade,
light shines through;
I'm no longer fooling myself.
My heart continues to wander
searching for the iteration of you
in this lifetime.
You're stifling me.
It's more than the heat
I can't get passed.

underwater.

What does it mean to me
to be living so recklessly?

I'm awaiting your divine intervention
but won't hold my breath,
I already know
you won't materialize.

Living so fast I forgot
to own my wreckage:
I'm the common denominator.

Too blind to see
all the squalor I carry with me:
I'm the silence on the ocean floor.

swollen.

words swell in my chest
leaving no room for air
all the things
I'm dying to say to you

body dysmorphia.

my legs shaking
knowing we should be
intertwined
for all of time;
a mess of limbs
no yours or mine
melted into each other
for all of time