We break
to rebuild together
and for this moment
a harmony is playing
and the world is singing
a perfect duet


[if you’re on Twitter, retweet this for a chance to win a signed copy of my poetry book, beyond rock bottom!]


the house is on fire in the distance clothes left on the furnace
asking if you’ve called
the fire department
or the police
and answering
it’s all the same.
taking a breath
panicked shards
stabbing through the
foyer and
there’s all this smoke
breathing laboured sounding
the house is on fire in the distance,
and you’re just sitting there,
watching safe
as everything you know
burns into nothing



you are fragile in your strength, i begin to grow in fear of shattering you, as if i might say the wrong thing and you’ll shut down like a venus fly trap, refusing to open again unless i can manage to say the right thing. to be the right person, to ask the right questions and give you the attention you want, but not too much attention, but not too little attention.

maybe you are a minefield instead, and i am doomed to constantly misstep, to miscalculate my trajectory and be blown away, be blown into pieces.

winter’s fog

What is winter if not a time of death and dying, if not a time of hollowing out and burrowing into yourself?

And what is so wrong with that?

Bear with me here.

Why do we fear winter, why do we fear this opportunity to close ourselves off and take care of our wounds and our hearts? Living is moments of inhaling and exhaling. Winter is just one long exhale, before spring rolls in and we are allowed to breathe in the new air again.


it seems i live in a snow globe
touching the ends of my existence
seeking to reach the outside world

i find myself asleep
in a green meadow field
i suppose in the end it’s all the same

you were here, for a moment, you were here
but you’ve gone away now
in that green meadow i once woke up in

these days i sleep under a starless sky
i saved you for a rainy day,
but the rain never came


do i still hear your voice?
back of my head
sings songs of your words
sickly sweet
like honeydew drops
in a glass of milk

an old movie
playing on repeat
the bike wheel turns round
and round

life in a snow globe
shaken to my core
touching the ends
of my existence
seeking to reach

i find myself asleep
in a green meadow field
under a starless sky