life is too short
for cruel words

it’s too long
with cruel words

i hate how my heart
beats at the same rate
when yours make me hate you
for being the best you could create
and when they’ve shown me the shooting stars
that are the look of pride
upon your face
but above all
i hate
how though they equate
less than half a grain
of sand
in the bottom half of my hourglass
to date they were just enough
to get me up and through the day
where all i can wonder of
is if my time will come
when you’re too late or

i give up

from time to time i go blind
remember?
the one time?
i looked at you and felt jealous.
i didn’t realize
and wouldn’t have
hadn’t you told me that
you did the same
looking my way
at the same time.

and isn’t it sad
and hard to explain
as it is to understand
two mirrors
face-to-face can
see bright as day, all
then their own rays,
black.

i don’t know how to act

hey friend,

remember, when the wound
was more fresh
than the in-season blood-red
fruit wet on my flesh

it’s five fifty-two
and i’m here
where the sky’s blue
is premature
and the moon’s gone
too soon
stuck with jail cells
for brain cells

with and without you.

what are words with no soul
whats a soul with no cords
who am i when no one’s there
and my pillow instigates
let my bed sell
my head on
the futility of rays.

     im not ok.
     im not ok.
     im not ok.

i have secrets.
secrets
even my sleeves
don’t see fit
to wear out—
  so instead
  they wear me. i'm
  out and about
trying to find a way
to fit in
on my way out

dear mom.

i wish i could just talk to you
without having to play us both
or support your role
on a stage i set
all by myself
in exchange for a rested head

practice makes perfect
they said
but i perfected practice to death
i hope that explains why i left
and still head to the opposite end

where insane is the only right
i have left

and my head
a dead end
and my only
friend