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?