you move slowly like the

hands of a clock, ticking

away seconds of life —

there’s a ghost in our

home watching you

without me; because I’m

not here, I’ve lilted into

lilies, but I see you

through the silt of moments —

I wonder if you miss me,

or my ghost is comfort

enough to assuage your soul.



remember me

with your dying breath,

remember me well, traitor.


cherry blossom kisses

with cherry blossoms in her hair

she falls over you in waves of

yellow skin and black hair, she

is warm as a summer’s day, as

secretive as the wind; but her

ebony eyes betray none of her

truths, that pours into you with

kisses softer than the fragile wings

of dragonflies; her lips the

stained glass windows of whirring

evasiveness your mother warned you

about, and yet through her lips

you can see her eroded heart fissured

with the apertures of yesteryear —

they spill over you in waves of

maudlin, and you promised yourself

that she would never again be the

skeletal remains of an autumn tree

in winter, and so you pull her closer;

your soul’s fingers twining ever nearer

because you’re two birds of the

same feather sharing the same branch,

and you would rather die than to

allow her back into the gilded cage

she once knew without hope or love.


freed refugee

her hands are cold as winter’s

ice as you join hands, her

fingers slipping clumsily away as if

she’s never held anyone’s hand —

she turns away shamed by

her pathetic display of humanity;

yearning to speak all the words

they need to hear, but she can’t.

monster musing

you never understood me,

you never even tried —

all you ever cared for

was tearing my wings

asunder and eating my

heart then placing the

ribbons of me that remained

amid the clouds, then you

had the audacity to say

you wondered why I dislike

you; you’re the bitter

aftertaste lingering on my

tongue, the nightmare I had

that danced itself to life.



you always ask the wrong

questions at the exact right

time, I’ve never known anyone

quite like you; you’re shrewder

than you think you are, but

you’re not so clever as you

fancy you might be; you’re as

transparent as plastic wrap,

and just as suffocating, your

breath a noxious world that

none should have to enter.


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