the grass can hear us
the trees can see us
the earth can feel us
they whisper in secret
gossip and cry
debating our future
consuming the hurt
yet choosing to be kind

by a strange
impossibly unique
sequence of events
the universe woke up
and saw itself

do stars cry when they meet their deaths?
do they panic
in disorder, claw and
resist, tear, scratch do they
see it coming, the same way
we do? do they simply
accept their fate? is it
the work of gravity
or perhaps is it the
work of friction,  their way
of fighting back, the great
language of physics which
dances itself to sleep?
have they born this language,
and are we merely a
reflection of cosmic
despair in one pulsing
womb? a heartbeat which howls
into the dark free fall
of nothing forever
I look to these earthly
bodies which anguish and
suffer at every end
and I wonder if we
truly were meant for this
If such pain is fated
in the realms of physics
celestial bodies
representing ourselves
at every level of
calamity. do we
sleep all through the orbit,
do we love with every
breath?
when our bodies form
the stars, do we cry upon
our death?

how can this
little body
have so much to say
just a
small little thing
trying so hard to
change the world
no power
no force
no rallying cry
no car nor army
nothing of influence nor traction
just a pen
just a dream
as they will
from their basement

to die before my
music gets heard
to sing and yet
no one could know
the words of my song
that is the life
that is a life

I was never a good dancer
so when you danced with me
I let you lead
I let you dip and twirl me
Uplift and unfurl me
And I never questioned,
never opposed

I was never a good dancer
but I wanted to dance with you
So I took classes
tap, hiphop, contemporary, ballet
years of unfinished lessons,
our own private sessions
seasons after season,
repeating your steps until I slept
at night

I was never a good dancer
but for as long as I remember
and for as long as I'll live
you can catch me trying to master
your movement, and your song
practicing and repeating and
studying and sweating and
losing sleep and losing years of
my life and losing
my Life

I was never a good dancer
but this is your dance
and sooner or later, we'll all
get it right
we'll reach our demise as we
waltz through the night
and I'll be waiting for you
on the balcony

dreaming,
praying
that you'll dance with me
that I'll get it right
even if I was never
a good dancer
the truth is
I could master it in moments
I could ask for your hand
I could end it all with one

one more step
one more dance
all I wanted
was your dance
one final pas de deux
to end the night
to end the dream
the waking illusion
of my life
of life
to send me plummeting, finished
augmented and diminished
the lift never lands
the floorboards depressed

the world comes apart
and it puts me to rest.

stagnant and still
longing for the thrash
the sort of craving that comes
from boredom, quiet, rash
delusions of suffering, and yet
the pain is true

blunt blunt poetry
no rhythm no
meaning no
language thought-through only
heart only
soul

death is a comfort
a childhood friend
it creeps from the horrors
of the dark of night
it weeps for me
curled up on the floor
pens and headphones
drawing their picture
giving them sound

death is a companion
a reminder that I am not alone,
that someone understands
that someone is there
to guide me, when it comes
whenever it comes
it gives me a hand to hold
a body to hug
lips to kiss
a shoulder to cry
it provides
me everything

death is a blanket
a cotton-blended cover
to warm ourselves and
hide our secret deeds
we whisper to each other
in the night, forbidden lovers
and revel cold hot stillness
a beating heart which calms
itself by your
touch

yes, death is a lover
and they've loved me longer
will love me forever
they have seen
everything that I have ever been
every tear that I have shed
every great bursting swell of emotion felt
they have seen it all
and still, they love
like nothing else on earth
like nothing else alive
nothing feels as much
nothing sees as much
nothing swallows and heaves and breathes of understanding as much as
the comfort the companion the blanket the lover
of death
and death
will love me
forever

I miss my friends
It would be
so easy to see them
It could be
so easy to see them

but I am still here,
it seems

I am crossing a threshold
walking home I felt
people in numbers
walking behind me
following the march
something is coming
something still on the way
I can feel it

a lot of people see me
and decide they'd like to hurt me
maybe let me smile and laugh
until i'm cornered into that wall
they like how they tower over
they see my strength
and they want to test the limits