When I was 8 years old

My mother taught me how to sew

Pushing and pulling the needle through the fabric making clean near stitches

I picked at the loose frayed hole of my sweater

on a rainy day in November

And the rain drops kissed the concrete and the sky was as grey as your eyes

I thought I could fix us, like I could fix my sweater

Pushing and pulling the needle through making

Tight neat stitches

holding it together

keeping us together


I like how it feels to inhale chemicals

I wait for the wave to wash over me

Relax my being,

my mind shedding the suit of armor it has been wearing all day

and fade into the relaxing calm abyss

half-mast eyes, but a full smile

i am finally at peace


In the middle of concrete chaos

She looked over her shoulder

Smiled, and winked

At me

Sending voltage through my veins

I stood stoic, as a storm rage on inside

In that 1 second of that smile and wink

My live was never the same



Dear Former Self

Dear Former Self Age 14

So what if you like girls?


Dear Former Self Age 17

I know what he did to you, it was not okay. Please go tell someone.


Dear Former Self Age 21

I know you like how it feels not to feel but baby please, don’t say yes. Just when he offers it, say no.


Dear Former Self Age 26

Even when it’s the furthest thing from being okay, it’s going to be okay


Dear Former Self Age 29

Don’t be fooled by her


Dear Former Self Age 31

It’s almost over. You didn’t come this far to only come this far. Don’t give up.

Dear Former Self Age 33

Look at how far you have come


Dear Former Self Age 34 (yesterday)

I told you everything was going to be okay


Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Strung out on hysterics, kissing midnight

In this moonlight dancing on the red curtain, your skin, almost seems flushed with rouge

As I play your body like a violin, pluck your strings

Creating symphonies, rising above the clouds

So much

There’s just so much that I…

but I can’t

because you’re with yours

and I’m with mine

but oh the stories we could write

with sex and sweat on my ruffled bed sheets

And leave them dripping with inspiration that I could carry with me always

Unattainable we are

but on this page we are tangled, splattered

in words and wet ink

Just one more moment

is all I need

to breathe the words

“Tu me manques”

On your lips


There is a place on your chest

Carved in your breastbone

Where my head fits perfectly

as if we were meant to click

like when we first met

and I stumbled over my shoelaces

and into your arms

when my soul said to yours

“Where have you been?”

Should be

I should be writing a poem right now

But all I can think about is you

and the way your lips taste

and how bad I’m craving you

and your smell

and the way your eyes look

when you slide into my core

The wind blows and

your breathy grow echos in my ear

I let out a sigh, as I sit here

with my lips pressed between my teeth

trying to write a poem



She was the scent that lingered heavy in the air after a thick and heavy summer rain.

She was the sun that burst through the gray clouds, absorbing the moisture, she was the humidity that saturated your skin

She was the smell of perfume that clung to the fibers of your clothes.

She was all I knew, all I wanted to know

Now, She is a lingering thought at 2:37am

She was everything, and now she is nothing