be the change


I am the trash fire: contagious.
I am jealous, possessive, and spiteful.
I alienate and sabotage every relationship in my life.
I am Mickey Milkovich.
I am Chris Keller.
I am Othello.

Self awareness is a beautiful thing.

Penguins Are A Special Case Animal


They got high by the lake while it rained down on them in February, just after sunset
Everything too wet to sit on and the same shade of grey
The geese set to their nightly noises before tucking beaks beneath wings for a cold, dreamless sleep
The frogs stayed up, though
To keep them company
And a most unlikely pair stood watching the sky grow darker because eye contact was too much work
They spoke of cheat codes and life’s ambitions
Dancing around the real reason to be there
Their feet shuffled over the slick wood of the boardwalk, sounding knocks off into the night
While the people across the lake watched, edging ever closer

Then they went for pancakes.



I’ve been thinking about you a lot.
Remember that night I left my door unlocked while I sat on the patio, post sun set, three and a half martinis deep just waiting for you to show up.
You let yourself in, stealthy but anxious, and made your way to the sliding glass door. I heard it open as you slipped through and I took the last gulp from my glass before you pulled me up out of my chair to kiss me, a handful of my hair in your fist.
It was nearly dark and my lights were off which made us nearly invisible except to those who may have known what to look for. I pushed you down on your back, into the cold, dewy floor and we undressed each other between greedy kisses.
Then I climbed on top of you, I was so swollen with excitement I had to lower myself slowly. Our bodies, sticky, steamed in the cooling night air. Both your hands gripped my hips, guiding me just so, reaching places I could never get on my own.
Besides the steam off my flesh and the fog of my breath I was just a hot wet silhouette against the pinks and purples of the sky.
You can’t tell if I’m saving your or starving you. But my nails dig into your chest our hips press together your shoulders and heels push back against the floor. You feel just enough to let me have you.
Every time. No matter what.

don’t tell


You know how our skin would stick together in the middle of the night because we’d fallen asleep pressed against each other. And then how cold that patch of flesh would feel when you peeled away to roll over?
You know?

That’s how I feel.

I try to sleep but never do,
The way I did next to you.

Nice Pick


It’s slipping into a freshly drawn bath.
The warmth washes over your feet and floods into your legs.
The knot that’s been in your stomach, it grew with each poor choice and swallowed word, melts away.
You can lean back and exhale like you’ve been holding your breath all day.
Then there’s a light pressure between the eyes and a smile pulls itself across your face.
All that’s left is a slow, sticky stream of red.
It runs down the side of your nose, scales your lips, and drops off to your collar bones from your chin.



At the end of the day when all the normal is used up and she’s run out of the easy smiles the distractions are done.
When her make up has settled into the lines around her mouth her cracks begin to show.