Raining Champagne - 12/07/16

It was raining champagne
and glitter,
bottles and papers
littering the ground,
precipitation pitter-pattering,
smoke intertwined in embraces,
my sense drowned in wine,
but all that chaos shattered
when you came around,
droplets pausing in the air
to applaud
your heart-stopping entrance,
haloed in the sunlight
you brought through the clouds.

And now,
seasons have passed
and a shroud of soured memories
covers each spec
of glimmering dust.

And now,
the heavens part for no one,
the taste grows dimmer,
and this pain has dulled
to a stiffness.

And now,
maybe my heart isn't broken,
but is still doesn't work the same
as it did when we first kissed while
it was raining champagne.

QFT - 09/18/16

In a breath
between intense
presses of lips
and hips,
the end of your kiss
rips the heavy
stiffness
of stress
from my limbs.
In the skip
of hearts beating
chest to chest,
in the voltage spike
between firing neurons,
in the hollow space
between nucleons,
I almost feel
as if any of this
is real
and not just
excitations
of some
abstract field;

as if your touch

is more than just

the Coulombic force

between us;

as if this moment

is enough.

c - 09/05/16

You and I
are in such tremendously,
terrifyingly different
universes.
I find it impossible
to believe
we ever
could have been close.
There is nothing
in the cosmos
that moves
that fast.

Letters to the Stars - 08/20/16

Even riding on a light wave,
it'd take a couple hundred thousand days
to deliver this communique,
which is really just to say
"I love you"
a couple hundred thousand different ways,
as if that's all it would take
to set things back to the old ways
to clear the haze
and free the radio waves
no longer transmitting all the things I want to say.

All I want to say
is:

"I love you;"

"I knew
the minute I fell into
those blue eyes
that the skies
would never be as clear as
your smile;"

"I realize
the distance between us
is more than just miles;"

"There are galaxies
in my memoies
of us,
but I can't seem
to show them;"

"My words belong
beyond poems
and I know this now
but the only way to show this now
is poems
so I wrote them all down
and they all say 'I love you;'"

"I love you;"

"I miss you,
but can still hear your voice,
still taste your kiss,
feel the twitch of your lips.
Each imagined laugh
has me gasping
and grasping
for a reality
that disappeared
the last time I ran
my fingers through your hair.
Wherever I go,
you seem to be there,
in equations and textbooks
and ribbons and stars
and every time I look up
again
how far away you are
because it's still so hard
to believe
this much has changed."

Perseid - 08/19/16

Would that I could
slay monsters,
fight evil,
unspool injustice
like twine,
ride daring
to the rescue,
stand honored
with pride,

but here I am,
glowing briefly,
falling swiftly,
crashing silently
over the lake.

Maybe A Sunset - 08/18/16

rising like
an exploding star
over the horizon
obscuring
anything
else from my vision,
petrified,
terrified,
spellbound by blue eyes,
filled with
too many hurricanes
to translate
to text.

Supernova Skies - 08/17/16

No matter how far away
I accelerate,
this inverse-square potential
tries to pull me back
to that place,
tries to tell me I'm essential
to that space
of mind and time
is slowing down
with the weight
of these words around,
the pressure's burning
up the sun,
the vacuum's swallowing
every sound.
I'm paralyzed under
supernova skies,
keep your dreamy looks
and starry eyes
wrapped up in parting glances,
sucked into black hole romances
like your first slow dance is
gonna change your chances
of skipping out on goodbyes and
escaping the event horizon.

butterfly - 08/16/16

depart
on the wings of a monarch butterfly
gold and black against the hot blue sky
double back
for a memory you'd rather not see
playing on the big screen
surround sound engulfing everything
every word you want to write
every time you close your eyes
every song you want to sing
it's burned in the rings around your eyes
the lines on your thighs
from the heaving of your lungs
to biting your tongue
it is engulfing everything
when will you set it free?

VA - 08/15/16

sunny skies
out one window and
shaking storms
out the other
caught between lightning bolts
and beach sunsets
swallowed in the humidity of the swamp
gather the sprinkles of rain
and sew yourself a new story
three thousand miles away

just throw it away - 08/03/16

-a button with the portrait of a girl with thick glasses and bright red hair
-a tiny flower that I found on the ground, stepped over, had to go back for because it reminded me of her and I couldn't just leave it
-a tiny flower that I found on the stem, tried to talk past, had to go back for because it reminded me of her and I couldn't just leave it
-a paper star, no where near as stunning as she
-a bead the same color as her eyes
-my glittery red and silver paper bracelet
-the business card for the weird vegan restaurant downtown

I superglued my fingers together so I wouldn't be tempted to text you - 07/11/16

slow dancing
and stargazing
and all the shit we’ll never do again
and never did at all
still sits heavy in my mind,
silhouetted with light of memories.
where are they now?
how have the morphed,
twisted by treason,
disfomed by dismay
and disaster
and dissonance?
crashed and captive in
"what if"s
and fantasies
of drowsily brushing my teeth next
to you.

dance it away or some shit - 07/09/16

tears swelling like gin
behind my eyes
on the sweaty, dark dance floor,
light falling on smoke,
rainbow balloons hovering
above my head,
singing or screaming
"I wanna dance with somebody"
and thinking that somebody was
you
and thinking about the night here with
you
and your soft, red hair
and your torn stockings
and your garters
and your red lipstick smeared everywhere
except for two cartoonish lips
on my cheek and the back of my hand
and thinking of
your hands in mine
your hands in my hair

thank god
the song ended
before I let
any more tears fall over you

only a broken heart - 07/07/16

For how many months
after the fact
am I going to keep
finding cracks
in the chalice
left by your
carelessness?
Good thing it's just
a metaphor,
because this heart
would leak
every drop of blood.

light - 06/12/16

paint it on my face
tattoo in on my arms
shout it from the rooftops
but don't carve it in my skin
i needn't bleed for this
scream for this
hurt for this
not this light
not this love

at this point it's just pathetic - 06/11/16

it’s been over two weeks of
tugging and
twisting and
pulling and
turning and
waiting and
examining and
stopping and
starting but
the knots you left in my stomach
still aren’t any closer to being untied.
i've tried and
i've tried and
i've tried and
i'm tired of
tugging and
twisting and
pulling and
turning and
waiting and
examining and
stopping and
starting but
i'm still just as tied up in you
as i was two weeks ago.

still - 06/11/16

it's 3 am
and the second hand of the clock on the wall
is almost as loud
as my heartbeat
in my ear
against the pillow
and the mouse scratching an escape
is almost as harsh
as my breathing,
as the strangely cold June air,
as the cat waiting to
torture
that poor mouse more.
it's 3 am
and I am trying to pretend
that I have diamonds rolling down my cheeks,
that snowflakes are falling on the pillow,
that there's a rain cloud in doors,
that the cat has been licking my face,
that it's allergies,
that the ocean misses me as much as I miss it
and sent me a salty water breeze to show it,
that the ceiling is leaking,
that it's not 3 am two weeks later
and I'm still finding new reasons
to cry over you when
it's 3 am.

Rusalka - 06/10/16

Lament those poor sweet pixies
living in my veins,
kept captive in capillaries until
they made their stains;
who, one night, were downed in wine,
drowned in oxygen;
who found their release,
yet surfaced again.
Lament the gentle spirits who once
had only wanted
to nourish the fields, but
became the haunted.
Lament the loss, lament the night,
lament what remains:
lingering lines and loud lies
now plaguing my veins.

Blue - 06/09/16

I always loved
the ocean
and swore it was
green, grey, turquoise, bronze.
I always loved
the sky
at sunset
when it's
orange, pink, red, yellow.
I always loved
blueberries
pureed and purple.
But I never knew
I could fall in love with a color
until I saw
you in blue.

Distortion - 06/08/16

Storm clouds and sneaker waves
slip shadows over all
my thoughts and memories,
kaleidoscopic fragments of
fleeting feelings
fall through
quivering fingers and shatter

but the blood dripping
from your lips
could just as easily have come from
a cherry popsicle.

Meteoroid - 06/07/16

I always thought that I was going to
burn,
disintegrate into a billion pieces,
fall apart,
lose cohesion,
scatter like ash,
as nothing large enough to impact,
as a meteor.

But as the surface looms
I think I might
survive.

you aren't there - 06/06/16

You are in everything.
Mingled in pronunciation,
intertwined in every verse,
hiding in
the sunset,
the sunrise,
the clouds,
the heat,
the wind,
the chill,
cursive s's,
dark chocolates,
twisted around all the little
phrases
I picked up from
too much
not enough
time spent stumbling
around you.
Your weeds
blossom all over
my heart
but you don't think they're
flowers.
You are everywhere,


but when I look

Sometimes I Wish - 06/04/16

Sometimes, "I Wish I Was A Girl" by Counting Crows plays and I'm never sure if it's okay for me to sing along or if that'll give someone the wrong impression, even if it's just me, singing alone in my bedroom.

Sometimes, I wish I was a boy so I didn't have an existential crisis every time I hear my high-pitched voice or want to bind or a store clerk tells me I'm welcome to use any changing room .... on the ladies' side.

Sometimes, I wish I was a girl so that I didn't have to explain what I "really" meant when I said, "I am so gay for Rey."

Sometimes, I wish I was a boy so that I could hate my curvy hips without feeling like I've disgraced the entire body positivity movement.

Sometimes, I wish I was a girl because my mother always wanted a daughter ad I can't help thinking, would it really be so tough to just suck it up and give her this? My honest existence and happiness aren't that important.

Sometime, I wish I was a boy so that I didn't feel guilty over the little hint of joy I get when anyone mistakes me for one or addresses me as "sir" on the bus.

Sometimes, I wish I was a girl so that no one could accuse me of not being a feminist or of forsaking all the joys of womanhood or of no longer being a suitable role model for young women in physics. Look, what the young people need to know is that they don't have to hide any aspect of themselves to succeed in science, that electrons have no bias against my gender identity, that mathematical proofs will still be as logical no matter who you choose to be, that experiments will work the same no matter who runs or analyses them, and any professor, adviser, or peer who says otherwise can come talk to me. I've got poems and rage set to burn pages and pages, whatever it takes to make them see.

Sometimes, I wish I was a boy so that you'd take me seriously.

Sometimes, "I wish I was a girl, so that you would believe me."

I thought we were - 06/04/16

a pair of binary stars
caught in each other's
gravity,

but the laws of physics
don't seem to apply to you,
just me:

spinning, spiraling
around you seemingly
endlessly

while you shine, shimmer, startle,
off in your own
galaxy.

Funeral Flowers - 05/31/16

With purple hyacinths
blooming from
the hollow cavern
in my sunken chest,
beating chlorophyll
through drained veins;

with chrysanthemums
spilling from
chapped lips,
broken bits
painting petals perinone;

with carnations buds
protruding from
emptied sockets,
stems and roots
deeply intertwined
with synapses;

I ponder:
"Lilies are more
traditional,
but would
tangerine tulips
bring you back?"

Never Have I Ever - 05/31/16

Have you ever loved a distant star?
Have you ever loved a light so far
away that her warmth dissipates
before ever reaching the love that waits?
Have you ever loved a burning sun,
her beauty seen by everyone
so for lightyears in all directions,
all they speak of is her perfect?
No? Well, nor have I.
What I wouldn't give to try.

By Tomorrow - 05/31/16

I've told enough white lies
To be able to recognize
Them from anyone
I've said my goodbyes
Memorized your stunning eyes
I know it's over
I know you're done

But lie to me and say
That our paths will cross again
Or, if you prefer,
Just say nothing at all
If it brings you peace of mind
To imagine conference,
Well, go ahead,
But I've let the pieces fall

By tomorrow
I'll have memories, nothing more
By tomorrow
She won't be on this shore
By tomorrow
It's just another closed door
By tomorrow
A broken heart won't matter anymore

'Fix You' - 05/28/16

Your sewing kit
isn't going to cut it
this time
so save yourself
a stitch
or nine
and use your fabric scissors
to snip me out
of your life.
Your steady, calligraphy hands
can't stabilize
this shattered system.
There is no quilting technique
or special yarn
that could mend
mental illness.
I am not a tattered pair of socks
for you to darn.

buzz - 05/27/16

i keep hoping
that every buzz
is from you,
to save our
snapchat streak.
but I am not a flower.
and you are not a bee.

A Cold, Dead Place - 05/27/16

When all is said and done
what have I become

but a fragment of a human soul,
hardly indispensable,
hardly irreplaceable,
hardly unforgettable,
a shadow cast upon this world
by a glory unimaginable,
it left me shattered in this hole
with no hope of being fixed or whole.

I'm falling,
I'm kneeling,
reaching for stars on the ceiling,
screaming,

"Remember when I used to write?
Put pen to paper
and let words take flight?
Let worlds take flight,
bring worlds to life?"

But now I all have are funeral rites,
cascading chamomile trips through endless nights,
an exhausted homily
in eerie harmony,
begging to be set free from me,
be gone from me,
released from me
and this excessive misery
and the melodrama surrounding
every failed attempt at healing.

In each quiet moment,
these violent thoughts return,
berating:

"All you do is burn.
When are you gonna learn
that there is nothing in this world
undamaged by your flame,
no one who will be the same,
no memories left unchanged?
All you do is burn."

Tell me how to heal
and I will do it.
How many times
must I insist that
I am not a cold, dead place
before I believe it?
How many lines
must I erase
until I no longer
feel the guilt
of their creation?
Is there any penance
I could pay
to drive
the catastrophic thoughts away?
Is there any amount
of self sacrifice
that would suffice
to end this repetitive annihilation,
these oscillations
between "almost okay" and this?
I have tried to find
a villain I could blame this on,
a monster I could pin this on,
an enemy beyond my mind
that I could fight



but the only one out here trying to kill me
is me



and I have spent too much energy
tearing at my own flesh
and hating my own head
and destroying myself endlessly
and all it's gotten me
are scars
and fading Sharpie stars
where I have to see
and remember
exactly
how I betrayed me.

Ira - 05/27/16

Incredible
iridescent irises
illuminating interactions,
ionizing each iota
of anxiety from my being.
Imaginary numbers and ideal gases
fall immensely short
of their intrigue.
I would need to know
every complexity and beauty of the
infinite
before I could write them
into a poem.
I hope this will suffice.

Get Me A Telescope - 05/27/16

I've been more into particles
than planets
but
their heavenly eyes
have me
researching a career
in astronomy.
What a gift
to stare
at crescent moons
and lips
for a living.
It keeps me
living.

Cosmological Constant - 05/26/16

I have seen the universe in you and

you

are far more beautiful
than anything Hubble could have captured:
kindness permeating like dark matter,
love expanding and expanding faster
that has me humbled and enraptured,
leaving me to wonder how I stumbled
upon this shimmering collection
of particles and light
whose mere presence lifts and lights
the darkest night.

Her lips are nebula,
constellations blooming in each
soft word.
Her smile, I think
sparked the Big Bang.
At least, it did for me.
The blazing blue of her eyes
could only have come
from an O-type star.

Look how they shine.
Look how she shines.

And if her eyes are stars,
then each blink is a sunset.
O, Love, don’t go yet.
I haven’t loved you enough yet,
haven’t held you enough yet,
haven’t found the words to express what
I heard each held breath,
haven’t found the words to express what
I felt in each caress.
Haven’t simplified this stress tensor
or understood how our particles
interact together.
But these calculations could take forever
and simulation does little better
to stimulate all these songs I felt
but couldn’t recite without the help
of someone else’s chords
and keys
and melodies.
I suppose, now, it’s too late
to begin singing memories
that have drifted beyond the Kepler Belt.

But should this wandering comet
ever stray back into your orbit,
O, Love,
I hope I melt.

Terminal Velocity - 05/26/16

I am falling,
hard and fast.
I have fallen,
hard and fast.
Here, at last,
at terminal velocity,
but it feels like
I still should be
accelerating
toward them.
Can't I fall
any faster?
Can't I crash
any harder?
Hurry,
let me hurry,
back to them.

it's not nostalgia - 05/25/16

what's the word for the
pain
you get when
you think about
all the good things that could have been
but
now
will never be?

Sin - 04/18/2016

Stunning supernovae,
a superposition of heavenly spirits
sprawled like spectral lines,
spontaneous symmetry breaking
or a systematic supergravity,
the strong interaction
stringing us together,
supercritical points,
a shattered standard model,
the sublimation of skin to breath,


but I'd take a silent second
in her smile
over all of it.

Asymptotic Freedom - 04/14/16

An abundance of antimatter
annihilating
each paired particle
bound by
ambiguous operators
until this
androgynous animation
is retrieved.
To the
agitprop artists
attracting catharsis,
I ask your assistance
in resistance
of the arbitrary axioms
appointed at birth
to restrict our creation
to a binary basis,
that spans just a fraction
of the human adventure.

I'll no longer abide
by this planar existence,
as intrinsic as
Euclid's Fifth.

I'm begging:
bomb this binary.

Neutrinos - 04/14/16

Somewhere between
standing and sinking,
sure and shaken,
screaming and singing,

I am ever changing,
with each oscillation,
from production
out through void,
a ghostly figure
glimpsed only by
unconserved momentum.

Dang - 02/08/16

I've been listening to
Alex Dang's
poetry all night
hoping his words
will inspire me
to write
the monster biting
bits of my soul away
into the light
and give my
quaking body
a fair fight
but this was all
the courage
I could find
in someone else's rhymes.
It's time that I
regained mine.

Beta Decay - 02/05/2016

I've been falling apart:
complex exponentials
complicating existential
crises exacerbated
by soft syllables
of reassurance.
You know,
kind words
usually pass
through me
like neutrinos


but yours
turn me into
mile of lead.