Aug 18, 2018


I write to bring you closer. To imagine your fingers trailing the curve of my spine. To recall how the span of your hands were exactly the width of my hips. And how our bodies would fall into each other like words on a crossword puzzle. I write for the raw ache in my bones when the ink seeps into paper --- for the bittersweet sorrow that comes from bringing you back . 


Aug 6, 2018

Carry Me Home ...

Midnight strikes, where is my prince ? 
Lost my comfort, more time to think 
Broken and bruised, tell me what I am 
Feel so unused, help me find your hand 

I guess the sun still waits here 
Got to hold it up for him 

Carry me home
Bear my weight on your shoulders
Carry me home
Nothing else matters 
Carry me home 


Jun 20, 2018


Thinking of you ...
is a poison .. 
I drink often 


Jun 19, 2018

How We Love People We Once Loved - Fortesa Latifi

When I tell you I don't love you anymore, neither of us can tell if I'm lying. If old habits die hard, then bad habits die harder and this is on par with 3 packs a day. This is on par with a bottle before breakfast.
Old love tricks us I think. There is nowhere to put it. So it lies on the bottom of your heart and shivers. 
My body remembers you too well. My insides light up like the traitors they are when you cross the street in front of me and it takes a full five minutes for my brain to catch up. You don't love him anymore, remember ? Or you shouldn't, remember ? Or you're fucking stupid if you do, remember ? 
So ask me again. Ask me if I still love you. I don't think so. But if I do , it's less like champagne and stars and more like faded Polaroids. More like the weight of the sun pressing down on the horizon every afternoon. More like the way you have to cut a tree open to see how old it is . 
Less like love and more like that detached way you love people you once loved. 


Jun 18, 2018

untitled ...

I know what you want to hear -
that I slayed the dragon and swallowed my demons
and laughed in the face of my nightmares 
and lived happily ever after -
but the truth is much more ordinary.

The truth is I breathe through the pain
even on the days it whistles between my ribs
on every inhale and every exhale
and I celebrate like hell 
on the days it doesnt make a sound .. 


Dec 2, 2017

Winter nights ..

Darkness ..
always had its part to play ..
without it , how would we know when 
we walked in the 
light ? ..