Poems

Three A.M. Scroll Phone face up on the nightstand dragging my eyes back from sleep like a hook under skinOne stupid notification, then anotherthen I’m gone again, pulled right back inRoom is quiet, neighbors out coldbut my ceiling’s full of flickering shadowsEvery app lined up like shots at a bar where the bartender never stops […]

Thirty-One Little Triggers Kitchen table’s got a cheap paper calendar taped down flatedges curled like it’s been through warEach square lined in red pen noteswhich wolf comes knocking at which doorRent on the first, light bill thirdphone on the fifth if I don’t payBy the time I hit the middle of the month I’m already

Third Cigarette Verse 1 Coming from the shower, water down the spineTowel hanging lowcrossing every line. Steam is rolling outmixing with the smoke, Standing on the edgelaughing at the joke. I offer you the last onetake it with your lips, Fire in the eyeshands upon the hips. Step into the night city climbing high, Bare

Thirst with a Body Count I don’t chase loveI chase that jolt when clothes hit the floor faster than thoughtThe room shrinking down to mouth and sweatburning everything we bought, You forget the mortgagethe deadlines, the kids, the vowsEvery promise you made that feels weak and flimsy nowI have wrecked more nights than storms turned

Therapists Should Get Fucking Tips You flop down on the couch across from that familiar chairshoes half off, eyes already glazing, stomach in knotsCrack a joke about paying someone to listen to your bullshitting self-talk when you could just scream into the void in parking lotsThen you start talking and it all spills out in

Thighs on the Sink Verse 1 Back me in the bathroomgrin says trouble’s near, Tile is cold through socksthe light is sharp and clear. Mirror fogged with steamshirt is halfway off, Fingers under hemskin is getting soft. Sit upon the counterknocking bottles down, Lotion hits the tilemaking quite a sound. Thighs are open wide knees

The Weight of Pedestals Turned to Ash He was thunder at the table, never seemed to crackI built my world around the lie that he’d always come backWatched him mend broken things, hold the cold at bayBut heroes snap too easy, and strong spirits betray.The weight of pedestals turned to ashEverything perfect turns to dustLearning

The Wrong Shape Verse 1 Office smells of carpet and the burnPamphlets on the wall at every turn. She reads the paperstops upon the lineWhere three of us have tried to make a sign. A practiced smile upon the tired faceShe says we have to simplify the case. One legal partnerroommates for the restThe system

The Watcher in the Chair Verse 1 You sat inside that sagging chairblanket on the kneesRegardless of the summer heat or the freezing breeze. Hands around a coffee mugwatching cars go byTracking every neighbor with a sharp and critical eye. Mumbling at the guy who let his dog upon the grassListening to the arguments through

The Weight Under the Floorboards I walk these rooms with the silence caught in my throatEvery step I take sounds like a warning noteI keep the boxes hidden where the dust lays thickEvery memory I buried is making me sick.It’s the weight under the floorboardsthe nights I can’t forgetThe truth I tried to strangle but