Walk

To the end

Walk with me to the burial grounds where
things grow up anyway —

slice through the thicket

it can be tough to admit 
that your time at a place 
has come to an end, 
that whatever imperfect and 
unfinished…

Crise Grise!

[Your-author-not-feeling-it] 

skinny bones

i used to have this big idea
that if i made myself small enough
so small that i could fit in your back pocket
i’d be the thing you reach for
right before you walk out the door
i’d fit so nicely pressed up against you
in the bed
or at the movies
or cooking dinner
or on your mind
that you’d never feel the…

summer love

a few words on solstice

she said she couldn’t masturbate in lonely spots at the barn
i said. i couldn’t care…

Daddy,

Do I scare you? I am sorry
that I split against a plastic knife 
and cheap leather from last Sunday. 
Mechanical pencils that scratched shame…

Free Verse Poetry|Dark Poetry

Borderline Personality Disorder

My chemical reaction

Poetry

Heart of a Child

On children’s spark