love, peace, softness.

when i was embedded in the darkness, i was consumed by repeatedly chewing people up

and spitting on them.

a whole tub of the stuff.

the muck and gunk of depression, jealousy, bitterness, and confusion, spat with the force of the insurmountable pressure i felt, both intrinsically and extrinsically.

it’s stunning to reflect on.

my core being is so completely about finding the light, and to think that there was a time where i was too heavy to move makes me weep for my dead selves.

i don’t have a clue about my future, but i’m okay with it. i have completely shifted, and (in a rare exclusion of modesty), it was my doing, not the world’s.

the sun’s rays did not seek me out. they did not spin to encapsulate me.

i hacked at my roots and moved myself.

i took precious, precarious care of myself, dropping my dead branches and nurturing my buds.

i still have harsh winters, but never again will i go back.

my roots gently press into place. i’m staying, earth bound.

for the moment.


love is IT

beauty is light

found purpose is


dreams are part of IT



is.    IT

the whole is purity

and purpose


rest in your war, wake in your peace.

don’t soak in sludge. clean.

live to share

not a machine, but powerless if not clicked in place




your turmoil.

solve your strife.

love your stains

take care and be well

7/7/17- sexuality I

the death and rebirth of intuition

to all the men i rejected
and girls i held back from

to all the opportunities eviscerated
relationships disintegrated

i am sorry
i am sorry i
am uncomfortable in my own being.
mentally, i have found my peace.
internally, i am |||||—
externally, i am|———-
i guess this is no longer socially tolerable.

i’m now at an age where my sexuality is the public’s issue.
where i appear to a jury of my peers to present my scores
they say i should have
|——| much experience and
|——–| much intuition and
|————–| much trust

i don’t want that
because i don’t think i can

i watch everyone date and fall in love and fuck acquaintances and suck off strangers
i feel jealousy, for the flippancy with sex and the ease of handling attraction.
yet, i am not open to chance.

i have not had sex since i was with him.
a joke, an embarrassment, concaving to external pressures
i do not reply to his messages
i do not read them.

i have not been with someone since Danielle
who, like most,
only wanted me because i was there.
i was a honey dripping hole for her to fill with her insecurities
a distraction from her box

i give myself wholly to the dream, and the reality has nothing for sustenance.


the dusting of cherry red, the burnishing, and the cleansing of love and joy


some days the sun is just a dull enough shine that my soul feels it has a chance to shine like the sun

some nights the moonlight casts a shadow on my pallid parts and a glow in my deepest cavities

these days, i dig my heels into the earth, stirring and kicking up dust over the cherry red.

these days, it’s beauty holds a half burned match stick to my raging forest fire.