Category Love

Your magic is showing

this is where the poem ends

Abrupt Excuses of the Ancients

I write what I feel because what I feel cannot be touched.

i dont know if i know how to stay

you’ll know when I’m listening

But it’s the explosions that you’re known for

You cannot hide the evidence of a fire.

I believe in whichever god that made you

love sneaks in when we’re ready because it knows better than us about timing

bloodletting but with words

I glimpse her looking at me from the corner of every thought

When You Lose Everything, You Can Do Anything

Nothing says ‘springtime’ quite like the smell of your own seared flesh against your motorcycle’s exhaust pipe.