Dear Sun

l used to follow your footsteps in the sand,
but they are lost to me in these winds of change.

The city seems colder now,
closed to me in my time of need,
the doors have darkened to my magic,
long nights have set their chill into my bones.

(I carry the knife with me, always.
I carry your heart with me, always).

I search for your light along the horizon,
but I am slave to the moon, her pull
beating me endlessly against the sand.

(The tower breathes in the distance,
pulsates that familiar thumpthump…

my chest is hollow, craving, aching, tugged toward
that unavoidable expectation).

This is no longer an oasis,
the water turned stagnant from lack of sun.
There are no shadows, just infinite rivers of ink.

(I carry the knife with me, always.
I carry your heart with me…)

it is your name etched on the box,
but it is her face I see in my reflection,
her teeth grinning from the corner–

(she can still taste the worlds you left behind;

I can still taste the love I left on your tongue.
I can still feel your soul buried in my spine).

I continue to chase the sun, born back to
the beginning, ceaselessly.

(destiny drags me along the well-worn streets,
blood dripping from my hands, inescapable).

I feel the heat of the sun,
the light breaks the horizon…

I wake.


the wrong moments

i’m just waiting for you to tell me
all the ways love isn’t enough.
i don’t think i’d blame you.
after all, i was the one who ate the apple;
you were just the man that loved me
without knowing what love was.

so don’t.
see the fruit in my hand and remember
adam and eve. persephone and hades.
remember the ways that I betray you,
remember my fascination with the snake in the grass,
remember that I am just a girl with pomegranate lips
and I will continue to poison you.

we are the same constellation in the sky,
but i am just a nebula and you are still
living, breathing, existing; you are
light entering my eyes–

and though
we exist within the same sphere,
we are already a billion light years
and a whole galaxy apart.

The Spaces Between Our Lives

Why does the beginning always feel like the end?

every breath you take is just foreshadowing the moment your lungs cease.

every beat of your heart is a beat closer to slowing.

every word from your mouth might be the last to touch your lips.

when you touch my skin I feel like a dying star, moments away from supernova.

when you enter my bloodstream, I feel the way my pulse changes to accommodate you.

why does it feel like every time we’re ending, we’re just breaths away from the next heartbeat?


Is this freedom or anarchy?

It took me 7 years to get over you, and 30 seconds to realize I spent the last year lying to myself.

How many numbers will it take until you have multiplied over my entire life?


The way two universes collide.

I want to keep kissing you.
I want to make love to the way my name sounds when it escapes your breath.
I want to fall in rhythm with your heartbeat.
I want to savor the sweet taste of forever and forget the way goodbye feels against my tongue.

I want your fingers entwined in mine, for better or worse.