Poems

Blessed Are The Overthinkers Blessed are the overthinkersthe ones who text “did that sound weird”the second they hit send The ones who stay up latemaking sure nobody walks home aloneeven when they call themselves“too much” to be a friend You worry you are annoyingthat your check-ins are noisethat your care is a weightpeople quietly resent […]

Bat Wrapped In Duct Tape Bat wrapped in duct tapenails crookedheart pounding Trash-can Excaliburheld together by rage and panicyou don’t want gloryyou want everyone you loveeating breakfast tomorrow If something comes throughthat invisible crack in the worldyou plan to meet it swinging In a cluttered garagefull of busted bikesoil stainsand forgotten science fair projectsa kid

Binge Until the Blackout Binge until the blackouttill my sight flickersand the room goes soft and mean Stuff my headgutheartwith anything that keeps mefrom hearing that silent scream Night starts quietjust a snackjust one drinkjust one hitjust one scroll through clipsthat rot my brain into slime Next thing I knowthe room is tiltingwrappers on the

Bitter Harvest This bitter harveststolen rowssold-out futuresin silent votes He wakes before the sky turns grayboots on mud that never paysrain or firehe breaks his backwhile suits in citiescount their stack They talk of tradeof price and scalebut none of themheld a calf gone pale His hands fed townsthey’ll never knownow banks foreclosewhere wheat won’t

Backseat Confessional Backseat confessionalbelt digging in the spineriding out the guilt you havecrossing every line Speaking secrets to my neckwords you’d never sayunderneath the kitchen lightsin the light of day Parked beneath the broken lampthe river running blackwindows fogging upbefore the engine cools the stack Wrappers on the floorboardand receipts inside the dashbad decisions back

Basement Gods Of Dice And Dust Basement gods of dice and dusthear our nervous laughterand shaky bravery We build paper corridorsto trap the fear in the marginsevery throw tries to beat back the sensethat somewhere nearbyan unseen thing is rolling for usand none of us askedto be on that sheet Down in the concrete bellyof

Ashes in My Hands Ashes in my handsI hold the blamefighting fires I never litstanding in the flame I carry a debtthat no one gave mesmoke that chokesthe air I breathe Every step landson broken glasspaying for the sinsof a stranger’s past Waking up sweatingin the dead of nightregrets that stealthe only light Tied to

Background Noise I am not your background noisehumming under every story you tellwhen the spotlight hits your face I am not a silence in the rafterswhile you soak in praise I am the one tuning the stringsbehind the curtainwhile you crash through chordslike a demolition act up front You call it our bandour projectour legacythen

Ash in the Playground Ash in the playgrounddust on the seatswings movingin the heat Built for laughterholding signswarning of the danger lines Swings hang crookedover clover bedschains twistedover heads Slides fadedtired pinkplastic warpedbefore you blink Paint peeling from the gymstickers flapping on the rimstray cats walking in the sandowners of the broken land Fence went

Ash in the Porcelain Ash in the cupwhere the brushes belongcigarette ends tellingwhere it went wrong Sitting on the porcelainshaking with coldsmoke curling roundin the space that you hold Your toothbrush is leaninginside of the glassbristles bentwatching hours pass Blue fading downto a tired old pinkstanding guardover the white of the sink I say I