"Spaces"- A Poem

(source)

for some reason i always thought 

an artist couldn't breathe without

loneliness 

but you appeared and 

it's not much but it's a lot

to take in 

like small sharp 

breaths of fresh mountain air

and late night fluorescent 

lightbulbs 

and spaces between people 

that are now closed

the sun has a feeling now (instead of a 

glow)

you've mended everything

that i never thought needed to be 

sewn back together 

"Futons & Ladders"- A Poem

(source)

the downstairs smells like burnt toast and

black, runny

eggs 

which means the day is already over

might as well leave my brain on the back porch 

to sunbathe 

and go for a walk halfway across the country

maybe I'll have lunch in a bar and 

instead of drinking i'll chew the shattered beer bottles

just so I can hear them inside me

making extensive amounts of noise without any repercussions 

then for the afternoon, i'll make a stranger teach me how to sew

patches unto my shorts, in a grungy way like in those sad movies

and i'll wear a humongous thimble the size of my body

only to protect me from being pricked by the outside world

when it gets dark i'll build a ladder large enough

to extend above the earth and while everyone is asleep

i'll eat a small bowl of raspberries and whipped cream

with a side of all the wishes made by young children while they 

doze off in their cloud-like, fairytale dreams

and the stars will form a nice glowing futon that will

cover my skin with a blanket of light 

as i sing myself to sleep

"Tender"- A Poem

(source)

and while my mother is bickering once again

about the clothes, the fabric, the anything she can find

I think about how everything is bigger and better

no one is ever less

making me feel like those ants I step on 

that I must now be forced to call my friends

the little worlds they pinch in and out of

in silence from the outside

in triumph from the inside 

I see the togetherness the world is lacking

I sit down on the ninety degree sidewalk

with my knees scraping the gritty surface

causing them to bleed

that day my blood was my tears 

and my mother still bickered in the background 

about the people, the morals, the society that's turned to dust