teenage talk

I forget how much I like

the unapologetic feeling

of spilling my secrets

to strangers

(stoic saints)

their strony eyes gazing

with severe concentration,

exquisitely placated gazes

over their glazed faces

I lend to them expertly,

pouring readily in to open cups

that tip over to me readily

it is effortless to fill them

saying that I’d rather be free

showing them a twisted smile

tellling them something wicked

lying to them about anything

showing no sign of stopping

If my intent is puzzling

I know I did the right thing

though it may not be a kind thing,

revealing too much protects me.


when an aching truth is spoken

(tell them you’re letting him go)

my words will seem like nothing

but are all the more convincing

I almost said

I want more

it’s not enough

I get what I want

but then don’t want it anymore

that was a lie

its not always like that

just like that when I’m bored

but that’s not quite right either

It’s more like I’m a seeker

walking along the beach

combing for something complete

but when I come upon it

I crush it in my hand

calcified chips slip

and fall back to the sand

and I never think of it again

I should have let her know

my secret to losing easily

I am a master at convincing

they passed through my fingers

because I made it so

it means nothing when they go


A person’s eyes leave

imprints like bruises on fruit

sinking beneath skin


when they find someone for me

a voice inside me disagrees and says

try not to take it personally

I don’t know what I want anymore

I’m not ready for another loss

I am in love with me I’m whole

when in reality I know

it’s dangerous to be alone

for me, at least -I sink too quick

in to an ether, moving slow

embracing the dull senses so

my mind can lead me-

feeding on my life force

fueling a machine that pours

myself out mechanically

fine tuned for an environment

of emotion without feeling

a well-oiled hand stamping

out words, afraid their meaning

will stop if I start up again

in the world so when they say

are you ready for it?

I try not to be

always good

I can’t take the light anymore

without the weight of warmth

It's not too late to let this go

feels better when it isn’t forced

but feels the best when I don’t