August 11th, 2014


a few short poems from a few months ago

a part of myself gone away
somewhere cold and alien
the moon (distant, cold, the moon)
it was (still) attached,
so far away


there are feelings too large to fit in the body
they break it into pieces
drunk, in the rose garden
eyes bright with pain
eyes dull with pain
buried like a treasure, like love


Fluorescent colors.
I want my heart to reflect the sun,
burned chemical white,
glowing with a different kind of pain.