Et Tu, Brute?

The poets say “love” like it’s synonymous with “tender” – I don’t know how to want like that anymore.

I am always moving toward you. On my bad days, I say to myself: “then you.” Sure, this now. But then you.

How long has it been since someone touched part of you other than your body?

Why couldn’t people’s insides match their outsides? The world would be such a wonderful place if the nicer someone was, the more beautiful they became.

None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives.

You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope…I have loved none but you.

This feigning to be asleep when wide awake is all the loneliness I shall ever achieve.

if there is a light then i am going to swallow it. if there is a god then i’m going to make him cry.

            Blood from the belly tastes sweeter than blood from anywhere else. We know this                        but don’t know why—

I love her on the border of sainthood / & sinner, her mouth the way burning happens.

You don’t get to die and be reborn the same. You come back,  but you come back wrong. This is the price you pay for resurrection.

I will place my hand in that flame and feel nothing. I will ask nobody’s forgiveness again.