kissing me
cold
selfishly,
intoxicating liar

the bottle is my
unfaithful partner

and I am her
abuser

By six years of age,
one ought to know some basic lessons,
like, “Not a peep ‘til the teacher calls
on your raised hand.”

I knew this lesson.
Berez did not.Read More »

Is music sex?
And is sex love?

See, I am charged; I am impassioned.
I’ve an energy, this channel.
Still, I have an age to me
you may not live to know-

I may be set ablaze, but I’m old,
at least inside my soul.

I’ve a sadness,
an emptiness,
but it isn’t that my eyes are vacant.

No, emptiness isn’t a hole; it’s a mass.
It has heaviness, and it has weight;
It has substance.
And fingernails!

It clings to the walls of my heart, just like staplesRead More »

branches bare but for withered leaves
almost like a skeleton
black against the periwinkle sky

reach for wings gone

branches bare but for withered leaves
almost like a lotus cluster
black against the periwinkle sky

reach for wings to come

(feat. in The Open Culture Collective)

I’ve tried caring but I got tired,
but it isn’t even that- It’sRead More »

If not left dead, left strengthened,
but for the first time, I’m starting to think
this may not be the kind of story
where I make it out alive.Read More »

Poetry he said to be the best
words in the best
order,

but some of my best words in their
best order
are too efficient.

Some of my ideas mustn’t be shown
but declared.

Some of my expressions weren’t
made for an audience.

Some of my wounds can only be healed
in relationship.