In the Works

A series of poems and other stuff

I am bloated on “what if’s”

and I’ve starved to death on missed opportunities.

She is Winter

The north winds blow

when you whisper in my ear.

My hands become brittle and blue

when I hold yours.

When we walk together you leave a

trail frozen ground in your wake.

Winter lasts all year whenever we are together.

The snow builds up,

the lakes and streams become solid.

The deafening silence fills the air,

dampening sound like a pillow.

She is winter.

But you betray yourself.

You pour your warmth into the way you act.

Your laughs are warm summer breezes.

The look in your eyes when you look at me.

That look is enough for me to brave the harshest winters,

the coldest storms,

and the deepest snow.

I’m sorry I haven’t posted anything recently, but I’ve been super uninspired recently. Bit of a bummer really.

Such skilled hands
Slip between my ribs
Simple little surgeon
She pulled out my heart
Rewired my veins
Sweet little mechanic
She placed it back
Gingerly, so as to not break
Standard procedure
It began to pump blood
I began to breathe and feel
Such sweet relief


there’s a storm between us;
I can see the sparks when
the lights are off.

your lips are like lightening bolts
against my skin; sending
electrical currents that
shock me to my bones.

your voice is like thunder
in my ear;
making my heart pound
to the rhythm between us.


the creases in our hands
look like bold of lightening.
and when we put our hands together
they make a storm.

there’s electricity inside you
and when it strikes
you set me off like
roman candles.

My skin and bones are the only things
keeping me together
but I’ll tear those to ribbons
before the night is over



When you touch me,
Wild flowers bloom between the cracks
In my concrete skin. 
And I don’t have roots,
But I think I’d plant myself in your garden
And let you water me. 


There’s a certain scent about you;
I smell it when you walk by. 
It smells of summer; of the flowers the bloom;
And the grass that grows and the trees that explode with new leaves. 
I want to bury myself in your garden and let you grow all over me;
Until summer gives way to winter snow,
And your flowers die and your trees become brittle
And break under the freshly fallen snow.
I want to be ground that supports you
And gives life to what you’ve lost. 


The first time I saw you,
I wanted to touch you the way the ocean touches the sand.
I knew you’d leave me coming back for more. 

I lost my voice box;
It fell into your pocket the first time you said “hello”.
And now I struggle, stutter—
Trying to match words, phrases, anything
To make you want to be mine. 
But maybe if I string the right words together,
Build you cities with ink and create skylines with my pen,
We won’t need voices to speak.