Not Even a Goodbye

No one owes you anything,Yet you can’t help that feelingOf resentment from bubbling upAs you watch & witnessSomeone’s interest in youGradually begin to wane.It happens to all of us.It’s happened to me this way and the other,But it still hurts to see, to feel,Someone slowly slip away,Stop messaging back,Cancel your dates,Become too busy,Too busy forContinue reading “Not Even a Goodbye”

disaster bisexual buys an iced-coffee

disaster bisexualbuys an iced coffee in februarywith the intention to discreetlyslip a straw under their maskand sip it while riding the traindisaster bisexualorders in englishto be considerate of subjecting the baristato their pronunciation en françaisso early in the morningdisaster bisexualorders an iced coffeeet un wrap-matin du travailleursans la saucissesorry, with sausage? you said sausageno sausageeggsContinue reading “disaster bisexual buys an iced-coffee”

rough red patches

rough red patches on our handsirritated dry skinsigns of pandemic wear on the bodydoesn’t matter how much you moisturizeclean your hands clean your handsclean your handswash them until they crack and bleedstay healthy stay safewhile we run out of tests run out of vaccinesrun out of doctors run out of timewhile you run and slipContinue reading “rough red patches”

I’ve Never Allowed Myself to Only Be a Poet Because I’ve Always Felt That Wasn’t Enough

I wonder if there’s a difference between a poet and a writer.They speak of the poet’s heart, but what do they mean?There are times when prose feels so stilted to me,When I crave the fluidity of line breaks,The freedom to not be understood fully,The convention to break convention,The magic of diving underwaterTo retrieve a poemContinue reading “I’ve Never Allowed Myself to Only Be a Poet Because I’ve Always Felt That Wasn’t Enough”

I Must Write

I moisturize, prepare my tea.I turn on my music, put my phone on a box of salt.I send my cryptic messages about the moon and rust.I change into clean clothes, remember I have laundry to do.I allow a song to play through in its entirety.I open my notebook, realize my lips are chapped.I get upContinue reading “I Must Write”