The Kind Of Texts That Wake Me Up

And I know you only see me

in that 3am “U awake?” message

that I read with glassy eyes

and an itchy mouth


But I see you in the galaxies

of my iris, in the flecks

of dust that filter through


The sunlight by every window


And sometimes, I even hear

the notes of your laughter on my neck

in the dialogue of strangers

that passes through the breeze


I guess what I’m trying to say is:

I know you only remember me

on the nights your body’s racing

too fast to fall asleep


But I couldn’t not remember you

even if I wanted to

and God knows






A Sidewalk Story

And my grandma always told me

I was a tough, tall tree

with roots indestructible


Roots undeniable


But I can’t help but see myself

in the fallen leaves you step on

with such ease.


What do you think of

when you hear the crunch?

Time Bomb

Every time a room gets too quiet

I find myself ducking for cover.


Clocks ticking

Feel more like bombs

Waiting to burst


Your heartbeat is a countdown

To my own destruction


I flinch whenever it strikes


One more hour gone

One less I have


To run for my life.


Twenty years ago I became a product

Of two souls willingly entwined.


I want a love that holds on

Like the magnets on the refrigerator,

One that welcomes you in

Like the mat on the front step,

That grows with the passing days

As if they’re not getting faster.


One that tumbles through adversity

Like clothes in the dryer,

And is always as warm

As the second they’re done.


I don’t want the kind of love

People write poems about.


I want the kind of love that raised me.


Outgrowing You

I feel myself outgrowing you

Like the jeans I used to wear

I feel you stretching at the seams

Threatening to tear


You’re like the sweater

I refused to retire

Though it was decaying

(too many spins in the dryer)


Your threads are fraying

Sagging, fitting me too loose

But I refuse to part with you just yet

No matter how obtuse


White Noise

I am content with sitting in silence

Until someone can complement my quiet.

For I will not settle for any sudden voice,

Polluting my peace with meaningless noise;

Hollow words, supposed to be vibrant,

Ruined by your white noise, a mouth uninvited.

On Rewriting History.

Ask me how I feel

when the time I thought would still be ours

Is spent with someone else a year later

And from the day we first met

I replay our timeline in my head

And watch you rewrite history

You paint over our memories with brighter ones

Heartbreak graffiti, like we were never even there

Like nothing about us mattered

Because I was just the rough draft

And she is your perfect final copy


How One Drop Becomes a Flood

I’ve got a leaky faucet for a mouth

And I blame whoever left me on

And one drop doesn’t seem like a lot

Until it’s gathered in the drain

Until it overflows the sink

And floods the floor that held you

On the nights when water was

What You Needed Most


On the Night You’re Left Alone

And you don’t realize until months later

When it hits you like a train without brakes

The stark memory of one blurry night

When he tucked your tangled hair behind your ear

And said “I like it when you’re kind of a mess”

But never stayed to clean it all up