When the windows are ice coated, and whited out from a blizzard
when the winds wrestle the trees
And the grassy ground is blanketed by snow
Where it comes up to the knees of a young child
The house is dark
The power lines are cut
And yet i still have you and you have me
We can keep each other warm


“And when he breaks your heart, I will not be there to pick up the pieces.”
“It’s okay. I can do it myself.”

i am your courage

It always scared me how I had to place trust in someone else. Someone who’s mind I had not yet cracked open to reveal patterns and memories.

I always wondered how the things we shared, were like for you. I wondered if my fingers left butterfly touches, gentle and delicate, and beautiful, as they write in romance novels. Or if they pressed desire into your skin. Or maybe, you just didn’t notice them at all. Perhaps you were focused on my lips, as if yours wanted to memorize every little crease and crevice of the skin, and to take on the exploration of my teeth and tongue. Although, the whole process of touching someone you love, is very sloppy, at the imperfect and young age.

I wondered if you would have ached to hold me at night. To sleep soundly with me entangled in your blankets and you.

I wondered if you let yourself daydream on the little moments we could share. Like sharing an ice cream cone, in our late August.

I wondered if I came across your mind during the times you felt like giving up. I wondered if I gave you strength.

And then I realized, that I didn’t need to wonder, because I did.

this way to infinity

“this way to infinity!” I was greeted with the call, somewhere in the depth of my thoughts
a small sound, buried under a book with yellowing pages and bent spine, from a childhood, a few blurry memories, like badly taken photographs, and the loops of desires and past selves, like woven bracelets.
“at that moment we were infinite”
but truly what is infinity?
a cycle repeating itself like a broken washing machine
a broken record?
a movie that holds a plot in a specific time, with specific faces. Always to repeat itself throughout others pressing play.
infinity does not exist.

condoms and tiaras

there’s a condom in the trash can
stained sheets stuffed in a garbage can
and a pair of lovers lay, curled up into each other, a tangle of legs and arms
satisfied, like a napping cat
there are clothes scattered amongst the room and a tiara lays on top of a dress
and a kiss upon the brow
a present for the birthday girl


Teenagers and their angst
with their decisions and worlds and choices
and social lives
with angst embedded poetry and stories
and a fraction of years
arguments with adults
kisses from boyfriends and girlfriends
sneaking out and around
oh! If only parents could remember these days
maybe parents could understand a little more