Waxing and Waning

The words to that song,

The smell of you on my skin,

This smoke in my eyes. 

Haikus and Teenage Angst 

Yeah, I’m thirty-four. 

I write “high school” poetry. 

Youth is waisted. 

Gone Fishing 

In this year to come,

The year of my silence,

I will be filled with wordless songs

And unspoken sonnets. 

In the year of my silence, 
Things broken will burn 

And out of death and ash will things be born 

In the year of my silence,
Devotion will cease to be offered to unavailable lips 

And only love will learn to spill from these neglected veins. 

In the year of my silence.


Wayward Angel 


My wayward angel,

When will you stop your suffer?

Let me carry you. 

Through the Looking Glass


I stand spectating.
Wonderland can be trying,
But you’ll get through it.

Deception in Am

What is betrayal?

The color of sorted lies. 

I know what you did. 

The Willow by the Brook

What “rue” has done me?

Given to me by bent song. 

Drowned, Ophelia.