Nothing to see here

I said to the girl
In the mirror
You’re still alive

Look at those
slithering vines
Hiding under
milky waters

The wind slaps
The vines
Revealing strawberries
A prick
And I’m dead again

Tales from the crypt

Do we answer each other’s questions because we care or have our thoughts become bored of the two pillars connected to our hands?

What you reach for is grabbing you.

I’m talking to whoever is listening but most importantly, I’m listening.

Somedays I get tired and lost in my own mind. Sometimes all I need is a hug and I don’t know how to ask for one. I find comfort in my old habits to bring me peace. Most of the time it works but sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes I’m empty in my own skin and these are the days that I need you. These are the days I’m vulnerable and my wounds are fresh in my eyes. I wake up with red eyes and dance until they whiten. Some mornings I bathe in clorox until I’m laughing even though I’m not really amused. I try to navigate life on my own and God loans me a walker and as I’m crawling, I get a sense of what my crutch really is.

Be patient

I don’t know how to swim
And I’ll go blind for you
I was seeing just fine
Until I was holding you

I didn’t tell you
I was an angel
I was closed
To you

Water my roots
Let me grow
For you



The fog
Is lifted
And free

I stole it
From you
To water it
In me

A little bit
A little unsteady

I heard a whisper
From a stone
To keep it
And throw it

But the water
Asked me
To hold it
And be patient

The mystery

Praying for Rain

Walking down Ann Street
All i hear is Reggaeton
Sweat dripping
From my bones

They ask me for money
And they ask for smokes
And all I’m begging for
Is a toke…of escape

I turn the corner
Muscles burning
In my thighs
Apathy bleeding

In my mind

Do you mind if I
Borrow your bicycle
Because I need to
Get there faster

Call me your majesty
Or make me a master

But I’m
A walking disaster
Breezing by the fire station
Waiting for a break

Or a hydrant to explode
On these petty stakes