poems

dear old lover

I got a message from an old boyfriend, asking me to be penpals, and wishing me well. But dating him was like chasing the wind.

It's wild that I chased the wind. When I felt like running after something, and something felt like nothing and now nothing keeps trying to play tag.

I know how the wind feels.
Somedays I think
I'll meet you outside my window,
but when I look out
all I see is rain.

bumps

bumps left. bumps right. big hands

no consent. bumps. brush. coast. wrap. lope. rope.

no words. no exchange. just bumps and bumps

gropes and grabs

unwrapping my presents, tearing paper

Untitled #4

There is a glass that separates me from you.
I can't tell if its visable, if its clear or opaque

There is a glass that separates me from you.
I think you can see it. I think you know its there.
Stares. staring at me.
Or are they staring at the glass.

If they looked away, did they look away from the divide.
Did they look away from me.

There's a glass that separates me from you.
Its stiff. Its thick. Its cold. Like classroom lighting.
Its enclosing. Its plastic wrap. And I
don't have enough air to breathe.