insomnia, cont.

anxiety isolates

the biggest smile

from the bluest eyes


reaching and reaching

falling away from breath

the moment before touch


whispering in my own ear

a troubling warning

of a never existing harm


the scolding mind

the pushing heart

expelling energy

into all the wrong caves

when it should be soaring

over a sounding sea

bk 2017





when you start


in love

it’s so hard

to fall asleep.


the warm light

birthing from my chest

spreading all the way

down to the ends of my toes

is a sunrise

in the middle of the night.


I bury my face

in my pillow


and squirming

in the muchness

of it all.



it’s a whim of wonder,

a feeling I had forgotten


a sense of shame,

for being all consumed.


I lie awake

dreaming of all the things

that might be said

but mostly

I lie awake


because I’ve placed the power

in your eyes

and now you can truly hurt me.

across the ocean


i just want to hear your voice

and those rings

those rings

feel like a snail

through molasses

and even though you


call me back

as quick as drunk man’s ear

hits his pillow

those rings feel longer than a lifetime

because the sound

of your voice

fills my heart

more than a thousand lifetimes could

and when I hear it

I know

you hear me

and I know

I am home


brooklyn 2016



everything happening all at once

my world exploded

not into a million little pieces

but into great shards of excitement, fear, pain, stress, disbelief, and love


and I find myself thinking:

has my luck ran out?

is this explosion the beginning of the end?

has the precarious balance of my life

been distorted?


or is this another awe-inducing moment

that lends itself to a happy ending

of a book that will never be written

but probably should?


Time no longer passes.

I use my time,

I experience my time,

I feel my time.


I might feel like I’m drowning.

but breaths I catch when I pull myself to the surface,

fill my lungs with the sweetest air

that I will ever taste.


I’m not living to write a book about my life.

but my thirst for experience is creating a life

that a book could be written about.

And I feel proud.


over before it begun

I know so many amazing people and yet you, the one I barely know, you are the one I wish I could spend time with.
I don’t know you.
But I feel like I could fall in love with you.
I don’t know you, but I wish I had the time to know you.
I think I would fall in love with you.

Love at first sight isn’t real, but maybe this is what that feeling is; a blind belief in a love that could exist but has no real foundation.
Just a gut feeling.

Or this is all just me romanticizing.
And it was just another whirlwind that didn’t┬áhave time or space on its side.
And maybe it only was allowed to exist because the future was already set.
But what did I learn from this one?

It gets harder and harder to take the good when you keep having to let people go.

white rock, 2016