poetry

They said you weren’t coming, I was told not to wait: and make a reservation before it was too late. I really want to see you, there is so much to say.

Naturally bitter, artificially sweet. A warm, welcoming, intoxicating treat. Mysteriously dark, yet familiar and friendly. Liquid and solid, gooey and deadly. An indulgence for the happy, a consolation for the sad. An accelerant

I’m waiting at the airport for you to arrive. As each passenger exits, I look into their face. A quick jaunt from hope to doubt, from recognition to the lack thereof, to

To live a life of truth one must make good friends and earn their trust, care and help and love and heal, fill one’s heart with zest and zeal. Find the thing

Isn’t it pathetic that in my moment of weakness, of doubt, when I am brought to question the fundamentals of my own identity, I seek the one I hurt, who rejected and