Naked words float along the stream

Nothing but self fulfilling prophecies

A spiral of confessions melts off my skin

And the wandering eyes drift onward

When I come clean

These words only cut me as I sink along the bend

Under the waves of melancholy memories

I’m a prisoner wailing to a siren

And no one knows where to find me


Transit Gloria


As we climb towards the sky
My eyes dart to two marionettes crunched together in a neat, black frame
Their blue veins dance like a tango of constellations in the dim light,
gripping each other so tightly from fervent fear of letting go.
There is a weightlessness here,
A sensory deprivation flooded with waiting and angst.
We came here to escape ourselves, didn’t we?
I smile at the stranger with hollowed eyes.
The gravity of the world has left her without one.
“These connections are ephemeral,” I think to myself,
as one solemn soul is replaced by another.
The painful bleakness of this place is placated by the reminder of my beating heart.
I only wait for its blood to change colors as I soar higher.
So that I can be full of oxygen, like everyone else.




My eyes could only focus on the curtained view of an elsewhere place as I stared out of your window that day.
Knowing what was beyond the broken, you stitched together the freckles of my back as it breathed with heavy, tear stained songs. Remnants of my youth that trickled beside an ink-ladened parade of scars danced in the day.
And I watched you in parts, as the whole of me diluted in the poison that I made.
The smoke as it evaporated from your teeth.
The strands of your hair that filled with color as the sun gilded you with light.
The lips that never parted but still smiled with sweetness
I wondered how young you were when you lost your laugh and if I was in another mirror wistfully searching for mine to return.
An innocent but insufferable desire to fall so sweetly into a warm, dark place left us wrapped beneath a veil amidst the fragmented; tenderly and beautifully alone.