summer (2023)

I’ll be older, and wiser, a year from now or so 

I’ll cut my hair short

And feel the cool breeze

I’ll look out the window

And for once, I’ll be at peace

I’ll get my license

I’ll drive real carefully

When I pick you up from work and get the groceries

I’ll be your husband and your wife

Whatever you want, really

And we’ll go to the Rocky Mountains

We’ll run into the sea

We’ll hold hands underneath the stars

And it’ll feel like home to me

And maybe I’m irresponsible

But I’ll take it over misery

I’ll take every scrap of pity

I’ll do what I have to do

So we’ll swim in the frozen lakes at midnight

And we’ll climb up those frozen mountains

If we want to, or maybe we won’t

We’ll pick flowers

And get ice cream on the side of the road

I’ll try not to think about it

Like I always do

About headstones and eulogies

And rotting to the core

I’ll just cut my hair short

And I’ll take you to the shore

This is really a song, but I liked the lyrics enough to post here.


had a dream last night

about a little girl

with a good family, and a pretty

apartment in the city

i can’t remember what she looked like

but i know that she was kind, and sweet

and oh-so-naive

had a dream last night there were wolves at her door

and no one saw the warning signs

but i did

i was strong enough to catch them

and good enough to try

so she wouldn’t ever have to spin around in darkness

as they closed in around her

wondering if she was dreaming

or just losing her mind

so i fought all the wolves with my bare hands

threw them in a freezer, to never be thawed

and passed out on the floor, the blood freezing in my veins

i don’t want to die like i’m one of them

i want to be light, and weightless

i want to drift for just a little bit


so i grit my teeth

i crawled out along the frozen ground

i wrestled my way through corpses

and i closed the door for good

told her it was safe now

she’d never know this aching worry

a bitter thing with teeth

and i don’t know what

what it would be like

to be carefree, and happy

thought i was poison, once you really get to know me

so i kissed her head

woke up to pouring rain

and swaying trees

alone in my bedroom with no one else to save

wanted to weep so hard that my pillow

grew a garden of flowers, mostly weeds

wanted to find that girl

and apologize for things i didn’t do

and when i looked out the door

all i could see was wolf-skins

and overgrown fescue

I really did have a dream like this, and I’m still not totally over it.


i. persephone has everything, up in her garden with the sun, where the light hits her hair just so. she’s got flowers, and friends; gets fat on pomegranate seeds. smiles with her lips, and never her teeth. she is afraid, and it saves her every time. from the snake in the garden and the deadweights on her wrists. her tears water the flowers; and her desperate laugh calls the birds to come home. and i want to live forever, i want to see it all. i want to say fuck the kingdom, fuck them all. i want to be like her. dancing in the garden; dinners with her mom. spinning and twirling and am i doing something wrong? ‘cause my skin, it looks pale and pockmarked under her light. my shaking fingertips. am i saying it wrong? am i messing up the steps as we slow-dance; pushing her away? as i whisper sweet nothings, make oaths we’ll curse someday. someday. as the dew gathers on her skin. i’ll follow her, all the way into oblivion.

ii. persephone has everything, and i am sick with jealously, laughing on my bedroom floor. she is gone, she is gone, she doesn’t need me anymore. my twisting, wretched form. my soft baby skin. she wears her beautiful dresses, and leaves behind flower petals everywhere she goes. i never look as good in them. i never hit the right notes. persephone has everything, and what’s left to give? i am a black hole, a crater, a bleeding mark against her skin. she is shining and laughing like the sun in the sky. she is chapped lips and certainty; and even in January she still smells like july. like an ache in my throat.

iii. she could destroy me, and god i’d let her try. i’d kiss her shoulder, yeah i’d bury her alive. i’d snuff out the stars so she could shine bright, i’d carry her home in my trembling arms.  i’d drive her to the city, i’d stay in these fields of knee-high grass forever just to be at her side. but persephone has everything, and i am still at home. persephone has everything; her thumb on my cheek and a tower of my bones.

Disclaimer: my knowledge of Greek mythology comes exclusively from my Percy Jackson phase in elementary school and the musical Hadestown.


you make me feel like

sunshine! and flowers! and sparkly dew!

and when i’m with you

it all just fades away

you make me want to twirl

and giggle

and glimmer with joy

you make me soft

iced coffee latte

you’re the sun in the sky

you’re the stars and the moon

you’re the ocean and the shore

and the daffodils i bloom

you make me yearning

and splendor

and petrichor roads

salt-kissed fingertips

and the long walk home

a room full of strangers

giddy and new

‘cept i’m clumsy

and i’m rotten to the bone

takes me half an hour

just to say hello

but i’ll be your friend

or your lover

and if you call me, i’ll try my best to answer

and conjure some advice from the scrapyard in my heart

try to be gentle

and soft

like the light hits the forest floor

Okay, this might turn into a song? I think it would sound really nice on ukulele.


you’ll tell this story differently,

every time i ask

details rearranging

tangled up inside your mind

you’ll tell this story differently

every time i ask

paint the faces on my skin

and hand me the photographs in a leather bag, to carry

cause your memories never stay still for very long

bending and breaking

stiff to the touch, porcelain

on the shelf look but don’t touch

don’t touch, don’t touch, don’t touch

tiptoe over the bleeding sores

bandage wounds; never yours

it’s not asking for much

to chart a muddled-up mythology

of hospital beds and tragic loves

of people i’ve never met; they are monsters

and angels, staring right through me

you tell this story differently 

every time i ask, twisting up the wires

and forgive me, but sometimes it’s hard not to wonder

how much time we’ve got left

before the ceiling buckles beneath the weight

before the roof melts beneath acid rain

and i’m the only one left to remember what has been

and this folklore will wrap around my wrists

grow up along my throat

my bleeding trachea; my tender, desperate hope

bind me to my deathbed, oh god i’m all alone

whatever i had, all that’s left is me

and this rotting piece of rope