Chaotic Good

Does anyone else get nervous they plagiarize through dreams?



You spread the pigments with more hours than we must’ve made love-

You thrust the shadows while laying highlights across canvas bedding-

You traced inked lines into my skin again and displayed the act as purification-


I stared for hours at the digital printed replication constantly losing originals beauty-

I zoom and pinch a screen holding another connection I had yet to see-

I calculate gas and shipping costs to bring my intimate nudity back for me-


We wrote to handle-

We painted to breathe-

We talked for the first time in eternity.


Him With Birth

I stand that I cant save him-

He lies in my bed as sleep covers him before I can.

My silence feeds the fear in him-

He doesn’t see the mirror of my past he’s  become.

I swell of pride dripping with fear for him-

This changing painful growth won’t cater.

(Can be read forward and backward per sentence)



Forward And Back

“We’re gonna separate ourselves tonight
We’re always running scared but holding knives
But there’s a black chandelier
It’s casting shadows and lies”


The choice to choose or let this fall apart….

The choice to choose or let this fall together…

One creates both endings.

I think it’s prettier in print…

I am more beautiful on paper.

I can be better handled as a book-to close at any time…

Walking out of the room still fills you with ire.

If it turns terminal I have every right…

a list of endings in sight.

The biggest challenge is letting go…

Never saying goodbye at the end of my night.
















What Do You Know

May I leap to my life…

Maybe I leap so often to find their life.

May my leap be so far that I land in new territory…

Maybe I leap so strong in hopes of the landing breaking it all.

My scent will linger in your bed…

Our scent will stain your sheets.

My scent passing by you on another…

That scent causing aching tremors when you remember.

Dawn breaking with a shaking hand…

Dawn breaks and you sleep somewhere else, yet with me.

Dawn breaking past my boundaries made in trees…

Dawn breaking me with a sigh from them.

Please release the knots you tied to me…

Please release my soul and let me return monetization in earthly ways.

Please tell me I am made of something else…

Please don’t claim my skin in scratched synchronicity.

Repeat my path in numbers and frets…

Let the sound vibrate against the walls of your cathedral.

Repeat my name in heavy breaths…

Let the vibration sound past your lips to me.


1554 Black

I might just have to pick my fingers across the chords for you-

Bruise the tips and pretend its from being inside you.

She didn’t perform mouth to mouth in our bedroom-

but the breath in her lungs still filtered to mine.

You treated me like a flame when you wanted the warmth-

Still always scolding me for the burn when you craved the ache.

She was my asthma that never got along with my stutter-

Blaming him for another symptom while I took pills to make it end.



Foxes and Fireflies (Cunning Light)

“I hope hopeless changes over time”

She says she’ll stitch fireflies…

Into my skin.

While he wants to transport fireworks…

But, they don’t seem to send.

The water here is triggering…

Rusty pipes and hot water.

Closing my eyes I’m certain I’ll open them to red-

The scent of blood bombarding me.

Tattoos can cover the scars-

But never my memories.

Please don’t touch me-

My skin must be bleeding on the inside.

The lust filled galaxy marks they had-

All are gone now.

I want my pain-

Fill me harder.

I need the ache-

Press the needle deeper.

Mark me-

Inside and out-within and without.

Ending unfulfilled –

Filling without ending.

You remember me spilling- Blood- Cum- Tears-

Always shaking on their floors.

I am too good at being everything-

I fall victim to myself in the looks from them.

I am the drink, drug, touch, and pain-

Anything, before I am nothing again.


If the tattoo heart mimics mine-

I might survive tonight.

Panic found me regardless of beer-

You leaving will darken my fear.




We Could’ve Not Missed It

Waking up at every movement you made- my heart would race.

Laying beside me with blankets of darkness and fabric- heated internally.

Any moment waiting for the cue to leave- acting as though it was my planned deed.

Shallow dreaming, hearing things- conscious feeling, you touch me.

We have 2 months-

We have one month-

3 weeks-

Two weeks-

Say you needed me-

Saying I can’t breathe-

I hate this-

2 weeks earlier and life would have paused for me-


Waking up to the sound of him in his crib-

You smiling-

Coffee….iced…hot…French press…

With you?


Forever Please……


No one will answer me……..



Only welcome when entangled with you-

Dilated eyes………





Deconstructed Of Someone Else

Ten days until I celebrate and mourn our day where everything fucked up.

How did I make it 32 years without you?

I reach for you like a blanket in hopes to find anything that soothes.

I have tried to birth you again myself through this life.


The other day I apologized for considering myself a twin- since you are not here.

They assured me I was indeed “still” a twin- validation gave birth to tears.


I want to be myself- But I can’t seem to be myself, Because I have deconstructed and reconstructed myself so much that I am just pieces of someone else.










I’ll Have Two, Without The Other


Coming to terms that my mourning will last a lifetime-For a lifetime never had.

Why is it so hard without you here.

I search for you everywhere- I looked in others and empty glasses.

I read words you never wrote- yet my hands did not purge them.

Two beers-two coffees-two please…


Two breaths that I can’t breathe- Did you make this asthma in me?

I’ll go to therapy soon- and tell them the most fucked up things about how I keep you with me.

Tattoos cover me- yet nothing ink has changed exorcised you from me.

Is it true- that death is the only cure for our separation?

It is true- that death was the cause for our separation.


I found our family- I left them till death.

I was as disposable to them- as you were in death.

Let them mourn- both of us.


I sit- in front of a mirror.

I sit- a mirror in my backpack.

I sit- a mirror in my lap.

Yet- I am petrified of broken glass.

Yet- petrified broken of what we represent.









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