homesick

it’s a phenomenon i don’t quite get

i suppose it was my home making me sick

all the pain i wish to forget 

fresh air fills each breath

exploring the unknown depth

of the beauty between birth and death

all of my efforts finally for me 

floating over uncharted seas 

embracing the distance with ease

emotional chains,

and

growing pains 

from maturing far too soon,

no longer haunt my childhood bedroom.

awake

i stare at the microwave clock

directly across from my bed 

it’s what keeps my eyes wide 

that blinking dialogue of red 

my eyes never leave it

Yet I never see the numbers change 

Must be between blinks 

and all of the thoughts I think.

about why i can’t sleep. 

I can never catch the moment 

when I peacefully slip under

even when I fake it

my body cannot surrender.

so instead i comb through my day 

each strand of mistakes 

braiding it away while I’m still awake

teeth

i adore your crooked teeth 

the milky stone expressing the child underneath

i want to know your cavities and sores

where sweet sugar lingered until you couldn’t take anymore 

the insides of your cheeks that you nervously bite

making your jaw look sharp as you chew on your fright 

the choreographed dance of your tongue 

glazing across your teeth to the roof of your mouth it clung 

your lobby of words so seductively strange 

tastebuds decorating a mouth id never change.

i <3 dad bodz

i suspect he wore a shirt in the pool as a kid

to hide his soft stomach 

tho it was something no one asked to be hid

he would plant his feet on the textured cement 

holding his breath under water 

to disguise his lament 

counting the seconds until his diaphragm begged 

sucking in sweet air as his head emerged to the sky

tho he wishes he could stay under instead

where the chlorine stung his eyes blind 

and water cradled his worries

and he could escape to a world more kind

ribs

i think about my ribs often

those twelve pairs of bone 

peaking shyly through my skin

an ivory cage 

protecting the gentle soul within

a single heart so alone

i have this vision

perhaps a distant memory 

deep within the collective realm

where i fly freely 

with beautiful wings drenched in milky feathers 

whimsically existing everywhere and no where all together 

my heart is open and unprotected, no bones at all to weigh me down

attachment and pride 

are synonymous with being chained to the ground 

the angel finally lands

delicately falling 

into the trap of selfish hands

where society hurts and projects

the aching soul inevitably reacts

with a mechanism to protect

wispy wings flutter with grace

before calcifying slowly 

curling within the cavity of the heart

Twelve stone fingers grasp around

As a barrier to keep suffering apart

Eve was born of this very bone

When God erased the notion

Of “being alone”

Perhaps this flesh is not a prison

rather the amoeba to a future decision

To rip open ribs and find your wings

embracing love within all things. 

mosaic of love

if mimicry is the highest form of praise, 

then on my knees I lay

subconsciously worshiping your every way 

how can i ever fully let you go?

when I still use your jokes 

and effortlessly mimic your tone.

i can no longer differentiate what was yours and what is my own.

I mirror to get close in body and of mind

soon our mannerisms intertwine 

until we are similar, 

i am you, and you are mine 

who am i if not a mosaic of love?

built from the pieces of people I cannot help but think of?

these little glass shards shine and reflect

though the presence of their artist i inevitably forget.

my shadow

i usually see her from behind, 

her long legs stretching sidewalk strides 

keeping our distance seductively wide.

her back Ieaks soft spinal peaks 

and whispers of a language that I doubt that she speaks

but there is a story there 

painfully placed by needles and ink

with the brim of her skirt kissing the concrete 

a lift of knee reveals her narrow feet

walking a thin line created so discrete 

that no one else but her could see 

the stray

i love taking in strays

matted fur and feeling

unloveable in their ways 

when they bite i understand 

i let their teeth sink in 

my weak wrist and frail hands

we are cut from the same cloth 

i take them in 

groom them until their fur is soft

scratch behind their ears 

pour my love until i am empty 

eradicating their fears 

and when they leave 

all confident and clean 

i wander back to the pound 

just to feel needed.