If My Mind Was a Fire

If my mind was a fire, I might set up the camping chairs  and make s’mores, might stare into the flames and get lost in a history of campfires, or I might let my candles  burn themselves to oblivion. 


Have you ever tried  to shake out laundry  drying on a line  of any bees that might have made your jeans  a temporary home? That is what it feels like trying to empty out my head before bed— just trying to free these bees before they sting me  in my sleep.

These Bones

I am done believing  in broken men I am tired of thirsty texts empty heads being left on read I am through with  opening myself up  just to have the door shut because the thing about trust is that it does not  grow on trees in fact, I would put more trust in a tree…


Consider all the locks  in our lives meant to protect but more importantly  meant to keep others out— I don’t know why but I leave myself unlocked around you, when maybe I’m better off engaging the deadbolt.


I keep looking for my answers  in someone else, I know no one can  solve me  the human heart is not secretly disguised as a Rubik’s cube (if only) so why do I keep on throwing myself out there only to reel myself back in as if loneliness navigating purpose  were something worth calculating  but…

Planting Trees

If I accept,  will you build me into your cobblestone patio  let me dig my fingers into the earth  to fill every crack with the green that seeps out from underneath?  Will you bury me and all our secrets in your garden  so no one can distinguish between  the seeds that plant peas  and the…


They cut her down today— first, they started  with her tallest branches just a few cuts  to sprinkle the earth  with hundreds of years worth  of her Next, they began sawing at  her midsection  bulbous and covered in lichen  her body etched with the histories of teenage love Finally, they snipped her — sliced her…

Friday Nights

Friday nights  are characterized  by the same kind of loneliness  that encumbered me when you fell asleep on the couch every night.


She only spoke in seismographs  abrupt, exploding with words that parted the tectonic plates of my soul. 

Letting Go

I let go of you faster than a sneeze, you slipped between my fingers  and although I practiced  holding you memorized all your ridges, I quickly realized I was never meant to hold you.