Singular frame behind my hands

Slip with your ways

Into steam of tea

And onto my midday dreams

Too intimate for the darkest minutes

Frank’s cliches

But it truly had to be

Even when it is too warm for chamomile

Too stormy for the afternoon

poetry, fragments, and small queer zines shaped by distance, inheritance, and the quiet rituals of noticing. this space gathers the work as it appears: slow, deliberate, and without ceremony. occasional images, when they suit the world.

I spent so long chasing you. So long chasing a version of you that could soothe my soul, change my course. I didn't for mean things to turn.

I didn't mean to do you wrong. I was charging with all the pain, the expectation, a child with good intentions, you were brave.

I know it is not what we wanted, but, We were brave. We chose survival over the faith of holding hands.

🕯️ Do you have a feeling you can’t name? A memory that lingers? A silence that needs words?

I’m opening a small, emotional writing commission called Letters for Ghosts, where I’ll write a custom letter, poem, or lyric fragment based on your feeling, thought, or story.

This is for anyone navigating heartbreak, healing, nostalgia, or just floating in the fog.

You send me a word, a mood, a sentence, or a secret. I write something just for you, something soft and strange and real.

You can request:

A letter (to someone/something)

A poem (lyrical, freeform, surreal)

A song fragment (like lyrics or mood sketch)

✨ It’s just $10, and you can order through my Ko-fi

Here's a personal example I did: Letter to future me:

I hope you feel better, I really do… and I hope the decisions I take will lead to the best for you… I hope I'm not committing to a life of darkness, I hope that my confession is not hunger I say "If I make mistakes, or I hurt you, please forgive me as I can't do much to control my impulse"

And I hope you will still make things for your future… Never stop creating… Not even if the spark dies… cause it's true that Now I feel dead but I know that flame burned once and it can burn again And we can get better and we can get back on track… I hope I did it… I hope you are what you wanted now… And I'm sorry if I failed, but I promise I did it for you this time…

Mama, Papa, I'm sorry, but I will not follow your lead I chose my own decision and did what I wanted with it. I know it's hard to get it, but it's not late to get it… I just hope some day you'll find the way to know I did this for myself…

This is not a phase, it's a wave That keeps on moving flooding every single place A wave that holds my future, a wave that holds the truth of… A wave that I created to feel right within my brain.

And I hope you will still make things for your future… Never stop creating… Not even if the spark dies… cause it's true that Now I feel dead but I know that flame burned once and it can burn again And we can get better and we can get back on track… I hope I did it… I hope you are what you wanted now… And I'm sorry if I failed, but I promise I did it for you this time…

Why can’t gender be as simple as which state you come from? Like, no one questions if you were REALLY born in Oregon or Arkansas, they just trust that you know best where you grew up. A lot of the time I tell people I’m from New Hampshire but I’m REALLY from Maine. Some days I tell people I’m “from” both states, and other days I used whichever one best fits my mood and personality that day… for example, there are some days I am showing more of my traits I grew in Maine than I am which I grew in New Hampshire, and visa versa. Now I know that people who haven’t moved around much or people who have grown in only one place their whole life, probably don’t feel that. But what I’m saying, is that just as sure as you are from where you grew up, understand that others are just as sure as you too; knowing where they belong, even if it’s different than what you know to be true. When it all boils down to it, I’m telling you to be tolerant towards people’s genders the same way you’re tolerant about asking which state someone is from. Just as much as the next guy, I’m not getting caught up in silly things such as debating where someone is actually come from…if they match the name on the state ID, if they fit the criteria society has made up of that region- if they look the part, talk the part…have the parts. Accept that whoever you encounter is the master of their own story,  and frankly, you are no one to tell that person they are wrong for what truth they live in this universe. You are no one to judge. You are no one to object. You are no one to assume. Let gender be as light hearted as where we come from, because after all, hell, don’t we get a say in where we end up?