the warmer the weather gets
the colder i feel

i look at my phone with compassion
when really,
i should be looking to the south

end this

standing, facing each other;
we resemble parenthesis.

slowly, lovingly
we tear off pieces of each others flesh.

in agony and eventually
there will be nothing left

thanks for dripping lemon juice into my eyes
from your smoke-dried tongue.
thanks for rubbing salt into my wounds
with your nicotine-soaked fingers.

i like the way it hurts.

the only thing that keeps me going
is the hope that, one day,
you can't touch me anymore.

are we worth it?
i beg your answer

fuck beautifully crafted words in rhythm

we can't be friends
because we can't be lovers.

and we can't be lovers
because--
too many fucking reasons to put into
pretty lines of poetry.

stinging, aching

this night is perfect
on the outside.

but miles apart,
we could be 4 state-lines away
and still shooting BBs at each other's
soft, sensitive patches of skin.

still hurting each other,
regardless of time

still inflicting pain,
our lives decidedly separated.

i was truly born to be alone.

i hate rhyming poems but

i just need you to hold me for a min
and let me touch your skin.
press my face into where your neck meets your collarbone,
inhale deep-- it makes me feel at home.

and maybe,
just maybe,
if you would permit
our lips to meet, just a bit?

dear love,

rainbow twine connects us
to the collective body of the universe.
ours are knotted and tangled.
even for a man with nimble fingers
and magnified eyes
would they be impossible to untie.
when we touch,
the knots get tighter,
more fine threads become entwined,
two single threads become one.
when we kiss,
like a harp,
long fingernails sweep the multi-colored strings
and a noise
soft,
beautiful enough to make gods weep
and human hearts across the earth to break
in a moment of unity.
a sound so divine and transcendental to this world
you must strain your ears to hear.
so the next time our young, fated lips meet
hold your breath in silence
and listen to the music.

adore mais ne pas desire

you're always lost
upon first glance of something you've
never seen before.
but your eyes will always adjust.
i'm still partially blind, but i can see by touch.
i feel my way around the maze of weeds and vines
and i acquire spatial perception.
i still need the light to open my eyes,
but my gray matter has already made a decision.
we're just waiting on cardio's O.K.