October 3, 2019 in Poetry/Puisi

I got this app on my phone
that counts how many days it’s been since we last spoke,
I wanted it to tell me if it’s been long enough.

It was supposed to say it is okay to let go now but gentler
but slower
but not like you.

My eyes
are really tired from being so aware of the numbers.

Even the world
ties its core to your veins begging to be kept,
how are my hands to be held back, how is my skin
to contain all my flesh?

Because if you’d say something, they’ll follow.
If you say something, they’ll follow.
See all my senses
are for you to stretch and break.

If you aren’t watching I feel like I would melt down to my feet.
I cannot speak.
I feel like if I part open these lips blood won’t stop spilling out of it.

All this mess.
It only make sense that you don’t want me.

And I have forgotten how to speak of pain as if I asked to be hurting.
Let’s just say you broke me.

If it helps let me tell you I’m working on it.

If it helps I am trying
to love loosely,
let love just dangle
on the thin of my heartstrings.
If it helps let me tell you these things.

If it helps,
I’m doing everything
the way you told me.

Still would crawl my way to your mouth
if you’d let me tuck my self back under your tongue.
I miss you.

Still flinch at your name, still my voice saying it.


Tell Him I Do Not Get It

December 29, 2018 in Poetry/Puisi

tell him the words are in clumps
i do not know what to show him.

apart from where it hurts.

tell him to look
where i point exactly.

tell him i said please.

tell him i cannot feel my chest
that the void does not help
and that i miss him.

tell him i said im sorry.

and that i dont know
where to put my hands
apart from having them clawing at my chest.

listen to me.


Miss You Proper

December 13, 2018 in Poetry/Puisi

how do i
teach myself to not want.
have i not done all that i can fuck i went
from begging you
to begging myself.

and it wears me out
to speak so loudly of you.
to speak of you at all.

see me
bleed out and splatter i’ve been
clawing at myself.

ask me again about the poems
like i need reminding that it was you in all of them.
like i aint aware
that i still am very much in love but i swear

i’d pick us up
and write it as it is.
all gritted teeth and bloody knuckles.
most hideous
wretched form of affection.

fuck the patience and all that comes with it

im scared
that i cannot miss you proper
always a few breath shorter
a few cuts deeper but i pray
to be pulled out of ruins
no matter how mangled.
breathe my way out of rubbles.
and undrowned
myself from your name i’ll clean
my bloody lungs off of them i swear
that i want them gone.


For I Find Comfort In All Of It

November 30, 2018 in Poetry/Puisi

watch my heart turns
perfectly still at the sight of you.
watch it burst out of my skin if it refuses to.

fuck i’m so in love
and you’re my purest form of happy.

which is sad
which is all that i have to give.





make it stop.
god make it stop and see if i wont just splatter.

god it does not matter
if i’m still not enough of a shelter
break my ribs open, god make space
make space for him.

and i would be splayed open a thousand times over
if it was for him.

and carve
and bend
all my skin, all the bones in my body

still i’ll be fine.
and i’ll make myself whole again for him.

god how i wish he wasn’t
the only thing that could hold me together.
how do i let my beloved go
and not relieve myself of everything else


As If Everything Still Is The Way He Left It

October 3, 2018 in Poetry/Puisi

So she says
red was still her favourite color.

He was gonna come home.
and when she was 7 she believed it better.

There were no more pictures
Mother burned
every single one of them.

Remember you called
to tell him to bring home toys and he said he would.
He said to just wait a little longer.
Remember he called back months later
and you missed him too much you couldn’t speak.
Remember you not wanting to speak
because if you do he’d miss you a little less
then he prolly wouldn’t have to come back as soon as he could have.

Remember he showed up years later
Remember he disappeared.

Remember the carnival.
Remember the rain.
Remember the tiny little bike.
Remember every little promises he made.

when there was just the three of you
in the kitchen of the last house you were in together.
That house
with a staircase by the front door.
remember you sat there watching
as the both of them speak
so loudly to each other.

Remember thinking
that somewhere in the world
he’s breathing the same air.
You know the moon still follows his shiny red Fiat around
and it’s taking care of him better than you could have.

But he still remember.
I sure wish he does.

I wish he lays awake in bed at night,
somewhere somehow
still needing you to wait just
a little longer.


Hail the Collapsing

September 25, 2018 in Poetry/Puisi

and would you do me the honor
I think this catastrophe could save me somehow
if I pray hard enough for it to.

I am attuning myself to loose things because I’d lose my mind if I dont try to
because who the fuck do I think I am and after all
what good is a mangled body to you.

and wasnt I supposed to be graceful
in letting you come and go as you please.
said I know what I’m entitled to.
said I promise.

but I think you could save me somehow
if I pray hard enough for you to.
I mean I know I’m supposed to be taking care of myself now but I dont want to.

said it is okay
as in I am fine
as in I will crumble anyway

I mean you dont have to save me just because I beg you to.

I will burst
to the size of my heart when it remembers you.
and I swear to be damned
to a softer shade of blue.


I Feel Like I’m Running Out of Poetry

September 14, 2018 in Poetry/Puisi


All that these hands
would give away for your sake. this body
was already all so brittle anyway
it does not matter how dry you’d leave it.

God if he’s here now
then no matter how many times I’d break myself
wouldn’t I at least have a little bit more to begin with

God if he’s here now I’d be
kinder to myself. I promise

When this is over what would be
left of me
if not just bits and pieces of him.

God when he go
can I go with him?


When You First Came Here

September 3, 2018 in Poetry/Puisi

how long did it take to not feel out of place.
how many nights
until the heaviness subsides
how do I tell if it ever would subside.

did this much anger make home out of you too.
did you let it stay
did you hang on to it like I do.

because I’m aware
of the pumping of my heart.
this rage is the only thing that has not try to kill me.

I’m aware
of the thumping
and the heaving of the chest.
and I let the cracking that comes
after each taking of the breathe.

there is a hole in my chest
almost the size of myself
I’m almost
almost gone now.

this constant mourning
if I make it look like an option would it help.
would it be a little less lonesome.


Like Dying I mean Like Dying

June 12, 2018 in Poetry/Puisi

Come across my mind in slideshows and slow music
I’d dance to your name all the time it finds a reason
for coming out of my lips.

I think God had purposely made everything to resemble
the way your heart beating.

I mean the vulnerability is deliberate
the vulnerability is easy.
Like dying
I mean like dying.
I mean I could stay put long enough.


Remind me of my lover
through the wind, the waves and the weather
as in make them be just as unsteady,
that same melancholy,

like the rise and drop of his chest
like tucking me in to sleep
I mean I havent been sleeping

I swear He made the night shorter than I remember it to be.
I hate the flicker of light
before it becomes steady and everybody coming alive slowly.

I mean I miss you.
have yet to find a way
to not go run to you whenever I’m nervous.


I Wrote One For Myself- A Eulogy

January 11, 2018 in Poetry/Puisi

Nobody else
would have taken her side anyway.
The girl wasn’t loved
she was sympathized with.

“I’m writing these poems anyway.
when I die they aren’t gonna be pathetic no more
they’re gonna be pretty.
they’re gonna remember whose heart it is that they’re carrying.”

Thank you for the brief sense of relief
from the illusion of being heard and accounted for.
for the slightest chance to be remembered and cared for.
I’m letting you know that you did good.

For every last notes turned poetry.
For every scars you soothe into believing healed.

“I wrote one for myself- a eulogy.
If no one remembers me after my death
then at least let me.”

Here’s to the poetry she left the world.
It was not for nothing.

“When I die they’re gonna be remembrance
of how my heart too was once beating.
how intense the love that it was holding.”

She said remember me as is.
remember me like this.
like the poetry.
so intense it snapped in my fingers when I wrote it.

When she was alive I witnessed her
ripping her organs out of her crumbling body
I saw her tear them down into pieces
and then paste them down onto the pages.
all in bad metaphors and fickle phrases.
She stayed alive like this.
She was that kind of person.

Always trying to make everything inside of her
feels like theyre readable.
like they somehow make sense.
That kind of person.
always trying to calm them down.
make them be bearable a little

just for a while just for as long as the stanza stretches.

“Here lies she. Selfish
for taking care of herself.
Died. Because she no longer did.”


Stand My Ground

December 2, 2017 in Poetry/Puisi

I watch his eyes flutter
like they’re so afraid of closing.
he’s digging into his own palms
clutching to the bed sheet a little bit too tightly

and I know the cuts
would be bleeding still in the morning.
I know it doesnt make a difference no matter how close
the distance are between our bodies but I just
wanna pull him closer to my chest
the everytime that he thinks
of somebody else

and I’ll clean his wound in the morning.

I want him close to the chest, so close to the chest
that those in his sleep that dares to wake him
would feel me be on my guard
on the other side of his eyelid
all ready to kiss him back to bed
right the moment he wakes up gasping.

so close to the chest that even in dreams
he could still hear my heart pumping
to the rhythm of his breathing.

so close to the chest.
so close to the chest that even in sleep
he could still feel my warmth
to every nook and crannies of his skin.
I wanna melt down onto him
like marking
my territory.


By God

September 4, 2017 in Poetry/Puisi

With you it was not lost.
I don’t know what to call it.

It sure was slow, it was screeching.
But by god it never felt wrong
see, my heart didn’t read you
as a tragedy.

With you it was not lost.
I haven’t had a name yet
for when my heart’s holding on tightly to the back of my ribs
and the way it tugs on them
like it’s begging god to not let it slip.

I swear it felt like it was going to.
I swear if it had, I would have let it.

If it had, I too, would have stomp all over it alas
it never really did

And I must have grown accustomed
to the sound of my ribcage cracking.

Decided that if I can dance to the rhythm
then it must not be that bad of a melody.


I Miss You In Slow Motion

July 31, 2017 in Poetry/Puisi

There’s a glimpse of longing
that passes by the window every night.
It pulls hard on the chest.

I feel my lungs
gagging for air
before it sinks deep
into the pit of my stomach
and it just sits there.
and become silent.

I feel my body deteriorate in the meantime.
Its inside all scattered.

Every organ
Every breathe
Evey drop of blood
slowly out of place.

And I can only think of your hands.

arranging them back to how they were.


Only Way I Know How

July 22, 2017 in Poetry/Puisi

This is nice.
I don’t remember ever hugging you
quite this softly.

like convinced that you’re not planning on going.
like knowing with the whole of my heart
that this is it.

that I’ve got you now
and I’m surrendering me.

But, look,
I practically am still on my knees.
I honestly don’t know how else
to tell you not to leave
besides by begging.

I love you.
So much.
And I don’t know if you could hear me
if I’m not clenching my teeth
if I don’t ball up my fists while I speak of it.


Call You Home

June 18, 2017 in Poetry/Puisi

It must have been easy.
Knowing I’d always come crawling back to your doorstep
all crumpled and dirty.

You were always ready
to pick me up, everytime.
Clean the blood off my feet
my knees and my palm, then quietly
Just quietly letting me heal.

Said you like seeing the proof on my body
that says “leaving you wasn’t easy”.

And that’d be the time when I’m most at peace.

When I’m with you
all torn and quivering.

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