I thought my stomach was fluttering but it's stuttering, it's uttering groans of indigestion all that clutter to shutter, but it hovers in my throat something is devouring me from the inside they were moths not butterflies

My picket fence is higher now and it's not orange, but two shades of blue. A gentler hue. If you look closely, you'll see I've set yellow yard boundaries differently and my teal front door was open, so wide open. It's closed…

you didn't want to bleed on me so you feed on me instead. I didn't see the red in your teeth, the darkness in your head, three jaws of needle sharp dread. I wonder when you must have broken my skin. I…

It's all here, the poem I was too scared to write you, writhing like a dying beast between us, gasping for air, I know you're scared, but one shot to the head is best. End it, and at least one of us…

I'm late, I'm late but I don't recall what I was running for and time falls away as we tumble down this rabbit hole it felt slower in my head faster in your bed messy and raw and real. I've always been…

when the trees spoke to me I whispered back your name on every leaf they asked why I'm not moving on, I'm moving on, I'm moving, at least my feet crunch uneasily beneath them their vibrance, their color, their life because there's…

closure is a chapter of a book I loved to pretend would never end you cannot change the words once they've been written but oh, how you tried denied and lied rearranged or erased the narrative to better suit your goodbye you…