(November 2023)

Untitled

I can feel
Your lips
Pressed
Against
My forehead
A memory
So sweet
A gesture
So tender
I will
Never
Forget

—

Untitled

How is it
It’s the writer
With the hands so calloused
And the builder
With hands so smooth
Yet
As I should have known
As I did know
All along
Their hearts
The opposite

What does it say
About me
That I tried
To go against
The laws of nature
The lore in the stars
Am I afraid
Am I self sabotaging
Again

I knew the answers
I know the answers
So why
Do I ignore them
Question them
Everything
But listen to them

—

What am I looking for?

Someone to hold me
For three years
While I sob
uncontrollably

With no desire
to fix me
Or soothe me

Just to wait
By my side
And hold space
For when
I dry my tears

Their lips
Pressed
to my forehead
Tender love
Foreign
But yearned for
Since I was a child

—

Bleeding

My soul
Is bleeding
Did you know
that was possible?
It is a slow leak
But it is a leak
Nonetheless
Soon
it will run dry