he’s leaving home


saturday morning
at 5 AM
he leaves his clothes
across the hallway
silently closing the door behind
he picks up the keys
and now he’s free.

goodbyes were
just some words on a note
that he hoped would say more
and as his friend
tries to recollect her clothes
from last night
she picks up the note
and clutches her handkerchief
“love is an adventure
when adventure is love”, it said
“i do love you but
if i don’t live now, i’d rather be dead.”

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floored.


it wasn’t the first time

i got lost in her hair
but the wind paused
and the sky looked over
this time
looked over me to see
if i was doing fine
and i told him
i didn’t even see him
walking through the door
i never felt him
putting his foot down
on my carpeted floor
and no it’s not that
i don’t love him as much
as i did before
it’s just that my
existence was clouded by
her hair and i couldn’t help
but want more.

high and low.


five words that’s all you said
followed by five more
but never ever
you picked up your phone
and followed five more words
but nothing more

and now it’s late
in the dark
and the moon is nowhere
where it should be tonight
the black is taking over
the light
of your eyes

so darling
let’s not run away
to where we can’t make roads
you stay where you at
and i’ll be gone
soon as i get a little low.

a place where we go.


i saw the sun beating down
over the rooftops
and i watched the river flow
i stood at the watchtower
and wondered
where the currents go

and as the river flowed
and the wind blew
it didn’t matter which way
as long as it knew

and people disagreed with others
and words tasted like lies
others drowned in the blues
of those who couldn’t say goodbye

and the fog kissed the ocean
under the bridge
and the currents laid low
and i stood at the watchtower
and wondered
where people go.

end + begin.


let’s talk about love, she said
her eyes waiting for me
how would you describe it
instead of just letting it be

all of this we’ll talk about
it’s just going to be a memory
it did take a long time to find
but something’s dead in me
we had laughed, we had played
we had leaned on and let in
and then the leaves turned cold
time always at the end, begins.

and the light drained back to
the window it flooded from
we sat in a dark silence
all things about love, gone.

daydream.


yesterday

i walked out in the streets of
a misty daydream
i stumbled on the sides of
a dozen dead realities
i saw many a men watering
roots of a dead tree
i heard a person die and
many people laughing
i met with an artist whose
art died in love

and i decided i’ll be going back
to forget about today

until tomorrow.