i mean i know where i am senses wash over me like a tsunami of stimuli the streets buzz with artificial people always rushing somewhere it seems i look up and drabby brick buildings with a grayish saturation look back down at me each brick telling a different story maybe i should just take the safe ride home but what of an experience i can’t sit in that all familiar leather black and shiny as squeaky new boots i will let the wind be my cab let the sky be my compass as i wander alone

The scent of a candle, burning ever so slowly. Smoke from a fire lit to keep two people warm. The upstate sunset shining and shimmering in the sky with comforting color. The glimpse of a pumpkin patch. Sometimes it's cruel though. Change. It doesn't always come with light and hope, it’s deeper. Pumpkins rot a shade of green, leaves crimp and crumble, people change. I suppose it's the air, it's different, it comes with fear.

proud boys and police walk the streets of NYC hand in hand like lovers from the Seine they want us dead so they can sell our heads on eBay

He could be laying in bed at night, Happy, Holding on to his purpose, Aare that he is loved, Excited to take on the next day, If I took from you What you took from him. Then he would’ve seen He can stand As tall And as strong As any of us. But he is left unaware of his potential because you pushed him down and I let him think that’s where he belonged.

Feel too much. Express too little. Outside I shush. Inside I scream. Begging to be heard. Anger is amplified. Hatred is humming. Danger is dampened. Compassion is compressed. Scurried feelings screams my stereo. A hushed confession of love. An unwillingness to say " please, don't go. " But my soul's subwoofer senses no pride, nor fear. For my singing speaker. Screams my truth.

What is a kiss? A pink apostrophe between the words *je t’aime - A secret told by his mouth. Lots of love quotes will remind me of the smile you gave me after every time you kissed me. That same smile I’m now watching sideways because it reminds me of your absence. *Translation: A secret told by his mouth *Translation: I love you

What is a kiss? A pink apostrophe between the words *je t’aime - A secret told by his mouth. Lots of love quotes will remind me of the smile you gave me after every time you kissed me. That same smile I’m now watching sideways because it reminds me of your absence. *Translation: A secret told by his mouth *Translation: I love you

My name painted onto Pip’s chalkboard next to a snowflake hanging on the American flag. A man riding a scooter past a bra hanging on a tree branch. Neon orange fingernails gripping a Valentine’s Day balloon before Valentine’s Day. A freshman dropped her phone, cracking the screen as I examined the new pearl ring perched on my finger. My sister watching the Twilight saga movies moments before a homeless man knocked on our front door.

You popped up,

greeting me with oh no no no, oh god.

Calm down it is just

a question.


You are poking me, tapping, pondering,

you’re so annoying.

Because of that piece of ink,

I am scared to see what will be traced onto the paper.

Constantly deciding if that is correct.

Will I get the extra 2 points?


NO change that number.

Shut up and let me think.

That can’t be right, can it?

Yes it’s right.

Why can’t you figure this out? It’s not that hard.

Nagging, nagging, and nagging,

please just shut up.


With one stroke of ink,

you come out,

doubting every move I leave on the paper.

Even though the question was 2+2.

Talking back and forth back and forth our relationship kettling but how long will we last.

as i wait for you as the hallways clear and i sit and stare on this wooden bench— i feel like sleep. a gap— a space between what is— and what is yet to be. as i watch for the comings and goings of my peers. and i’m looking at the wall in front of me that’s painted with a quote from the poet who was born here— about what he believes in the blades of grass and the grains of sand which he treads and he breathes and he thinks they’re divine but there’s nothing good here. if he knew that this place was named for him he’d scream— and i know that because over and over i’ve heard the learn’d astronomer speak but i couldn’t leave and i’ve never seen the stars. so i sit and wait and think cause thinking is why we were put here and if i listen i can hear music from the next room and if i focus on my breath there’s a tinge of spring scent in the heavy air that chaps my lips and the girls to my left chatter— they haven’t spoken in a year one recalls her time in Florence— how she must miss the scenery— and they make a pact to get out of here and travel to West Africa. down the hall i heard applause i wondered about the occasion but now it’s quiet— those girls must have had to catch their flight but i’m still here and i’m listening and looking at that wall and thinking about going to the moon sometime. i am an hour i am passing slowly but only when you think of me. i am an hour you can’t see me but i create you just as you create me. you’ll be here soon. put a stop to my sleeping just for an hour if for an hour.

We were strolling through life with maps to guide our paths. Every second seemed like an hour and no destination was in sight. You weren’t aware at the time, but the trail on your map was leading you to me. And when our paths would intersect, we’d start cruising through life like teenagers driving on an empty highway. We are nearing a dead end. Isn’t there another road for us to take? There is one, but it’s taking you 4,249 miles away.