January 1st

In between our rhythmic breathing 

Every touch 

Every sensation  

You see further than even the naked parts of me 

To the core of my soul – a place that hides from even me sometimes 

It’s no wonder I figured you could read my mind – that a mere glimpse in your eyes would tell you everything you would ever need to know about the way I feel about you 

Is it even a surprise at this point?

In the laughs

The affection

The music

The skateboarding (at least my attempt of it)

The car rides

The lack of appetite

The scotch and twisted tea 

The backyard nights 

The subtle kisses

The dope ass sex

The way you have rekindled passions in me that I had forgot existed

The way you have reminded me to spend time on me

The way spending time on me is spending time with you.

Mo (2021)


you inspire me to write. to love. to consume every ounce of passion and throw it up across a keyboard, a piece of paper, a blue light screen at an hour in which I should be asleep. you have this funny way of creeping into my thoughts every time i finally think that i can handle life without you in it.

every independent has a first love – someone to show them that the world is not completely fucked up and that something positive can come out of allowing yourself to continue to live another day. everybody needs love even if they cannot admit it to themselves.

we know heartbreak because we know love. we know happiness, sadness, greed, hunger, thirst, jealousy, anger, EXCRUTIATING pain because we know love. we want to believe that we can handle everything life throws at us on our own but the truth is – our minds, our thoughts are fucking monsters. we need someone there to tame them.

you tame them.

our love tames them.

but we have to prepare for the day that the taming comes to a halt. the lips. the two-sided bed. hands. fingers. head-to-chest. only matched by an eye for Gestalt.

i accept that no love will ever compare to ours.

i accept that it will always be you.

but you cant tame my monsters if i cant tame yours.

let me in or let me go

do you want me?

yes or no





–  the truth about all love is that eventually it has to come to an end. whether that be because of death, feelings lost, someone new, perhaps timing? regardless the case, it ends and your forced to watch the pieces of your soul collapse on the bathroom floor alongside the river valleys and the whimpers –  wondering why the fuck you let it get to this point again and why the fuck you put your heart on your sleeve and let that person take it from you? you remember that it is the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

we all do.

yet, we still can’t help but regret giving ourselves and being vulnerable because whats the point of it all if in the end we are left to begin again?  or perhaps not? perhaps we will never give that part of ourselves away ever again. perhaps we will. perhaps it was never given away to begin with? perhaps it’s always been in you this whole time. and you thought you gave that part of you away but perhaps instead it was hidden –  within.

and perhaps on that bathroom floor wasn’t the pieces of your soul that your love threw back at you when they gave up but perhaps it was the pieces within you that were there – hidden –  saying “hey look. i’m still here. even if he isn’t.” and perhaps he will never love you the way you love him. but perhaps you can love yourself instead? and perhaps that self-love is something that can NEVER be taken from or ripped from your soul. perhaps it is the one kind of love that will never find an end. perhaps it’s the kind of love that we should all aim for.