Little lover of solitude


walk down the avenue blocks

heavy feet in rubber boots
you’re in a movie

set to Spanish jazz

wash the world grey

observe the sky crying on the other side of a  puddle

maybe you’d be happier there

some better, sepia-toned, upside down frown

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Think of Me

What must you think of me? 

she’s burning to ask

at the risk of sounding insecure

she’s curious

if she said it without hesitation

eyes, milky with honesty

tone, dry like sandpaper tongues

vein, pumping blood sideways on her forehead

it would be enough if he said

I think of you

Worth the Hype

I once knew a guy who told me that the best pizza in all of New York was at Luigi’s on 54th street. He talked about it all the time. His family had been going there for generations. It was “the best.” I always said that maybe we should go and then when we finally had the chance to go, he said that he didn’t want to go with me. Because what if I didn’t like it? What if it wasn’t worth the hype?

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Some people are just M&M’s


Some people are just M&M’s

sugar and chocolate

exoskeleton that snaps between your teeth

yellow like a taxi

blue like a Gatorade

leave them in the sun and they melt like lovers

they come neatly wrapped in paper packaging

that you’re meant to open

perforated to perfection

tempting your redemption

it wasn’t happenstance

you were set up

20/20 Hindsight

Everything I have written so far this morning, and I have drafted four posts, sounds stupid. I think it’s because yesterday someone sent me a text that summed up a blog post I had written and it freaked me out. He made me think about all of the past blog posts and journal entries, and I realized, one day I’m going to look back on this and cringe.

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A Tuesday Poem: Sketching


eyes are M&M’s framed by Twizzlers

sugar discs melting in your fists

Halloween of 1999

dressed as a Dalmatian with black painted freckles


seven perfect circles make a kiss

if you ignore the creases

left over from limes and tequila shots


you can capture a sneeze

it would be like watching a bird fly into the sun

that returns to sit on a lake


christmas lights twinkle

in your cheeks when you smile

pulled taught by the lines

on the bridge of your nose

when I started drawing your hair was shorter

it must have grown

falling out of place

flipping left and right towards infinity







Letters to Your Exes


Love letters seem to be popping up everywhere lately. I’m not writing or receiving any love letters, but I was reading a Thought Catalog article about the raunchiest love letters from writers, and one of my best friends has an ex boyfriend who still writes her letters and asks her to write back to him.

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