your girlfriend is an ingenue

God pricked pinholes
into your skin like camera obscuras
so your pores
could see a bit better

and I have dealt with your acerbic wit
but you eroded your karst topography
and smeared calcium deposits
like an emollient onto my lips,
leaving caustic bite marks in the shape
of paramours like inamoratas

but I will take pride
in having smoothed you over;
sanded you down
with precisely executed
gyrations like demolitions

sonnet to siobhan

God sends an angel down every time
I hear skateboards grinding into concrete
Because 16 is too young to start counting the deaths of soulmates

We giggled as we stuffed notes into Josh McMillan's locker;
Scampered through sewer drains
and burrowed towards opportunity
in hopes of connecting ourselves to brighter futures

I will always remember the first time you died.
You ripped open your throat to let the larks warble in your voicebox;
performed tracheotomies to loosen up the spirit of the world around you
And I strummed your chest like broken guitar chords on Christmas morning

The Pale Man

Some people speak in complete sentences;
You hang disco balls at the end of your statements.

And I
find myself
so enthralled underneath the light
that shines the way
your irises
paint rainbows,

with pupils for fingertips
and inaccessibility
as your canvas

gigi writes to alex

I scrawl lyrics
from Jason Mraz
and Taylor Swift
into my temples
to prove to myself

that my flaws
can be externalized

but there
is hope written
between the strings
of acoustic guitars,
banjos,
and the future

thinly veiled metaphors for treachery

One day,
I saw John Milton
walking down the road to perdition
which was paved
with cliches and good intentions

and along the way
we realized Nietzsche
had replaced St Peter;

switched out Heaven
for nihilism

because God's metamorphosis into finality
transcended existence

and I left you rotting
in the 9th level of camaraderie
because
betrayal
was Satan's greatest gift
to you and I
and there is no redemption for him
in our paradise, lost

the inferno

I had forgotten
carnality

until I traced
the curve of your spine
with my closed eyelids;

nibbled on your shoulder-blades
til wings sprouted out
and my tongue danced
with the feathery tips
of Lucifer

and I was wrong
to ask if you were a demon
(because you
are nothing
but a fallen angel)

my fingers
searched for salvation
in your chest,
but I
looked for love
in all the wrong places

because the last time
I checked between your legs
there was only empty space;
blank pages for other people
to write on

and yet I find
cathartic emancipation
in your hatred

because I could only ever love
someone as broken as me