blues

am i a bad person?
the thought keeps me awake
into twilight
"if you're asking that
you probably aren't bad!"
that doesn't make me good
kleptomaniac blues

co-dependant

anxiety tricks my mind
into thinking everyone hates me

and adhd
makes sure i'm not listening anyways

they're more in love
than i will ever be
—which doesn't say much

butterflies

if you came looking
for a cocoon metaphor,
you have the wrong poet
my melancholic despair is not muddied

with a menagerie of meaningless words
my poems don't paint
lavish landscapes of love, and loss.
i am not Dickinson
i am not Silverstein
Shakespeare nor Homer
i am a lot of other things,
but mostly
i am a hypocrite
bring out the butterflies, baby

abscond

klepto callings
of the easiest kind
pockets lined
with the crumbs of a candy bar
and several CDs
as i leave the store
a tag where my body once stood

forgiveness

people tell me to forgive you
"blood is thicker than water"
i tried being understanding
i tried getting you help
i gave you time
and nothing seemed to change
so i blocked your number
and cut off ties
maybe someday i can find it in myself
to forgive you for what you've said
is it anytime soon?
maybe, maybe not

eclipse

sheets of dark matter
speckled with stars,
and pillows of cosmic dust

i hide in them, with you
my own James Webb

loom over me,
as the sun to the moon,
and kiss me sweetly—
a total eclipse

blooming

vines grow;
roots constrict my chest,
but they must
if im to truly bloom

haunted

the ghosts of bay view
national guardsmen;
militia or gestapo?
only time tells

"ignore the Poles,
and their families too
tradesmen make good practice,
so just shoot to kill"

the milwaukee special

spiralling

There
Is
Only
So many
Numericals in
The Fibonacci Sequence for
Me to use in this lazy poem that I've put no
Effort into whatsoever, but I've already committed to the bit... So there.

overthinking

The fear of being forgotten.
The fear of death.
The fear that nothing will change.
The fear that my life will make no difference.
The fear that I will sit idly,
Watching the world get stripped from itself,
And be powerless to stop it.
The fear that what I do won't ever be enough.
The fear that every decision I make is the wrong one.
The fear of becoming everything I hate.
The fear of wasting away.

extinction

oil rigs
toll and dig
"make it big!"
they told him long ago

balls go rolling
cargos falling
fuel's spilling
carbon outnumbers the air

seattle is underwater
be that it's no longer
a miniscule problem
solved with thread and tape

survivors plead
atop floating debris
swept to sea
as the needle makes its final stand

united

"united we stand, divided we fall"
empty mantras
and emptier actions

liberalism; fake warmth

they tell us to behave
so i keep my cup on the coaster
and my elbows off the table
lest i be killed in the street
and discarded with the rest of the litter

trans girl murdered at 16
and no end in sight
it's no surprise

after all,
we are
but a preposterous ideology

blackout

scratched lottery tickets
meet unopened bills
and a court date set in July
is pushed to the back of his mind
as he is swept up
in fireballs and gin
rings cast his table
from drinks, unaccounted;
blending days
blend harder
when blacking out becomes routine