Your month is over, so it’s time I admitted something. (2013)

I say that my affection is platonic,    but I mean that the way I fake smile out of conflicts.I want my mind wrapped in yours,    my skin ‘n yours turned mobius strip.        I have heard your voice crack at the fringe,        ‘n I’ve talked you back,        rather than runnin’ off.        ‘n …

You taste like punk rock and processed foods (bad, but so damn good) (2013)

I ain’t exactly sure how to memorialize you,It ain’t quite love,‘n it ain’t quite lust.–Not to imply that affection’s a binary juxtaposition But it’s gotta say somethin’ that I ain’t ever touched you,‘n just knowin’ I got a text from you gets me grinnin’ chesire–Ear to fuckin’ ear.–I’d disappear if I could, but only to …

You keep asking me how old I am, and you say I sound so different than the others. (2013)

I’ve spent these last few months living on borrowed affection.The beneficiary of lust-lewd thoughts I did not deserve.I even fell in love for a while.you keep asking me how old I am,and 22 don’t feel old,but to some, to some it is.You don’t talk to people,and chances are I talk to too many. But we’ve …

You’d Know it by the Irregular Packaging, and the Constant Smell of Pickled Cucumbers (2013)

One Christmas I gave the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever given:An annotated copy of my childhood. I’d spent hours scratching down memories and sarcastic quips,Secrets and plans on the layout of my brains(for quick reassembly, for whatever reason). It was thoughtful because I knew I was leaving,And I knew that you loved me,So I sat …

You And Me (2013)

I love you,I love you,I love you,And it doesn’t make any difference that you’re more imaginary than anything. Fuck you,I can love you if I want,Stop trying to make this hard.I love you. I love me.

Yoga Shorts (2014)

Darlin’,my characters are revoltin’‘n I don’t mean that in aesthetics,but in kinetics, fist to the established ways of bein’ they ain’t happy with how this story is goin’,‘n I can’t blame ’em. it’s sayin’ somethin’ when my own dis-ease,eases its way into my fantasy. there are these pictures of you,you call ’em self-love,‘n I can’t …