to hearts.

When will I

Get over you.


It’s been more than         a couple months due

And you’re still there,



My mind does and then doesn’t


So easily.

I wish it did, though. Because,

Even though things are supposed to be changing,

I tend to still live in that


Not to want

To be forgotten past.


And there I wish I could find you,

I look at cars and think of him or you

And vans and

Can’t even relate

Except it’s never been your face.


It’s like “Dammit to hell, Jim”

Though Star Trek coursed its own fate.

I think I’m so smart but really

To hearts that can’t even decide how to break.

1:12 am, 11/11/17


to make sense.

I am sad

We’re not the same as before

From when we gladly would take less than a split second to decide

On whether a restaurant

Held our interest and that particular brand

Of zest, fulfillment, life


But now we’re separated

An invisible roadblock;

It is to life and the loss of element –


Not that you ever asked,

Or that I ever quite complained


But it hurt when you used my sins against me

When you’d throw me to the dogs

If only it’d bring you to a higher point in his eyes


I am not the victim and yet

You and I have much growing up to do

In dealings with men

Or lack thereof relationships


I know we’re trying to grow,





And this whole time, I thought I had the grander, better perspective;

That I knew what to do,

So it was as if I schooled, tutored you;

But you have, you are your own person, being.


I don’t somehow, regret what I did

As callous as it sounds in being

But I do regret how it made you feel –


But in a bittersweet way,

It felt like comeuppance,

Because then you and then I

Understood what it was like to be betrayed.


No matter the times I’ll say

Nothing happened of the sort

And who cares if I like him or not –

Things are cut off, but tendrils ever casting their shadows

Hold a presence even when the concrete

Has been cast off.


So I don’t want to cling onto a friendship

That has in a way grown past due

Because maybe I, too, was unhealthy for you.


I can’t and I do presume to be a knowing voice of fortitude;

Yet you saw me mess up time and time again,

But hell, I’m trying, really trying

To be better than the person I am.


You’ll not read this,

Unless I show you.


I speak to complications,

And intertwined webs of pseudo jealousy –

I am sad because our allegiance sways

And there’s no trust, belief


And I wish there was a scapegoat to blame;

I wish I could pin it on human faults,

Allowing remnants of what existed

Of our friendship, to fester

In plain. Sight.


But you had overstepped where you did,

And it’s so hard to forgive you.

And I had callously done what I did

I am not the person you make me out to be

Because my own demons could pitchfork me

Into another realm, unseeing;

So now you can’t believe me,

Which makes sense.


To this lackluster friendship, feeling

I guess this is what does/n’t make sense.


and yet

You don’t know
How I’ve wanted to contact you
How many times I rescinded those
Uninstall feeling.

You should have been
Like others
This perfect release
Parameters set
Guidelines met

Yet, we were both lacking something
We fit, physical needs yet
What was missing?

If it wasn’t attractivness
You made it up in plain speech
If it wasnt the shadiness of meeting
It was in the simplicity and desperation
Of our joining

Yet whenever I left
Did you ever rest have thoughts like mine
This verge on the soul
You gave me all I could want
And we were spent
Did you ever consider we lost much more?

I always kind of wondered what happened, to break your heart.

I wondered, why you seemed distant, closed off –
Or if that was how your walls were built, to enshroud view
You weren’t willing
You had an unwavering,
Pragmatic view
From the way you prepared meals
To soccer cleats and
Terminals that bespoke of what you do.

I don’t know except
I never knew exactly how to address you
Though it was easy.
A name, face, pictures
And listing.
If this was a game, you played it well
Took the going to
And coming from with
Practiced ease

Ultimately we were strangers
How comfortably you played the game
Meet criteria, each point exceeding
Yet somehow still destined to fail.


the battle.

Sometimes it’s hard
But I don’t want that connotation
Of love and strength and devotion
Oftentimes I am weak
Tired and pushed by inner bounds that creak
Wreak havoc on the mental peace
And I am straining in the ordinariness
Comfortable bounds of everyday
I suppose it speaks to the restlessness that
Writhes in the veins
But I want to give in
It would be so easy
To message him
Be on his front step in 30
But what good would that do
Possible rejection repercussions
Of more than a few nights, months
These memories and sensations
Can ransack vestiges of self left
It bites and wants to claw
Every which way it can
But which wolf do I feed?
Why couldn’t it be more simply
A benign equation
I am trying to put off
By substituting my means to the end
It’s either manifesting in thoughts
Wanting to be caught up
In his bed.
But there is no love lost there
Just hips piston in a release
There is no sympathy here
Only an agreement prior and trite
Respect after the claiming.
Why do we fight everyday?
Why not immerse in self
Accept we sometimes cannot reclaim
What we have given up so easily
I am tired but it’s not over,
That fight
I’ll rise again
Because I have to
Sing a happier song before the onslaught of plight
And be wearied by mental battering
Ramming at defenses nigh high.

the problem.

i will not come to you anymore
biting, scatching, burning

nuzzling, huggling in imitations
of a face
i wanted to know
but hardly, truly knew

and i know this is rattled out on a Sunday morning
and my emotions cave
like a porous clanging
amorous teeming with
mental unstability

i can’t deal with me,
these times.
hozier’s crooning
gets me by,
but there are bigger things at stake

friendship teetering on scales
and background singers
whose sail of vibrato
is the only thread connecting me to reality.

i sometimes get sad at the slightest thing,
because all you wanted to do is protect me;
and if i could,
the self-destructive button would be pressed immediately
to rapidly turn around
when scorned, refused
i am tired
of wanting myself to be used
constantly crawling back
in lieu of friendship, the things we lack
the problem is
we’re not that for each other
so let me face this fact.


blue, green

To want to be touched and loved by
Somebody –
Is that how we operate?
You like how I feel against your skin, heart, face
And I, I think and see a being worthwhile
in someone broken and forlorn.
Is it just me torn?
Or do we entirely operate unaware?
I do like the stare and heat
it’s your eyes on me and hands
that make do –
how they shape and form my mismatched attitudes
how to deal
when the deal is we like comfort
and sex is one other most perfect heady brew but you
stir and bring out a rise in me
i’m always like swift with poetical lyrics
a song in mind.
Tim you are, one helluva guy.
It’s to your smiles, laughs, and those Yaaaaaas’s
Expressions that make me smile
To your genuine curiosity
wanting to better yourself and to living your life
it’s to those moments i thought I’d be done
writing you a line
But all I have is words and colors that you told me
that you liked
So Tim,
no matter where you, we,
find ourselves in time –
I’ll wish you the utmost best
to being one helluva guy.


Straight up.