I wish I could say that the reason why I haven't written in so long on this thing is because I have some amazing stuff brewing, and a novel/novella is "almost done." But no. I've just been uninspired, sick, depressed, angry, sleepy, annoyed, happy, in love, exhausted, grateful but most of all...uninspired I tell myself …

There's a love I have, that I can't trust. A lover, a husband, a friend in one. I am a life destroyer and mimic all my old selves. I am a lovely mess, and a confessional poet. I want to be playful with my scars. An evolution. I want eyes that see, what others do. …

it’s cause I am a suffering beast

—chew on all the bad—that's on the outside—a solitary thought —can salivate—on all fours—it growls—at the gate—it separates—its skin—from its bones—soul intact—a fiend—a beast—a silent agreement—and here we go—mind chatter sleeps on its side—I lick it up—I'm lucky to savor—I swallow—and taste everyone you've ever loved—everyone you've ever hated—a simple meditation—sends me twitching—hands that touch—reflect …

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…

This dull ache... a small question swallows stones/chokes/sets fires/there are no threats, only every single one of them/regardless of their weight/ I carry/why stay?/if hurt follows/if the place we inhabit/is full of them/brimming/if I'm one of them/but plagued/by emptiness/and the lack/of everything that feeds/how will we move forward?/how will I scream?/how many times will I …

"How are you my twin," I ask him come midnight on a Sunday. "I was born a twin, I know no other way to be," he says smiling. It’s a miracle and a burden to carry this much love for another human. I’m mute when he says I love you. Not because I don't, because …