Taking Adequacey By The Handful

I’ve been laying up at night

taking adequacy by the handful

wondering how long it will be

before you tell me that it’s working.

Even if the dejection

stops pounding in my chest

then I’ll have to dwell

in the bitter, still tender loneliness

of the places, you never touched.

It looks as though

18 years just hasn’t been enough

to overcome my addiction

to everything you won’t give me.

Beautifully Natural Disasters

I know its awful

but I love to see her cry

not because I know she’s in pain

or that someone has their hand around her heart

but because it reminds how inspiring melancholy can really be

and how amazing it is when someone is moved

it puts the dejection in apathy

that I never knew was there

and shows me again how beautiful eyes can be

through glass windows

opening and closing as all of the hate and confusion

that shes feeling rolls down her cheeks

and somehow


she emerges from her own natural disasters

more confident and beautiful every time

as if nothing had ever hurt her

and nothing could again.

You Have To Let Go First

One of these days

I’m going to stop holding hands

with the pain

you made me fall in love with

it will be hard at first

and many times I will not succeed

but I first have to let go of you

for you to then let go of me

but without that hand of longing

and brief, bittersweet release

wrapped tightly around my wrist

I will emerge from the line

of people still yielding

to their vices

and I will look over my shoulder

back at them all

back at you

and I will smile

and I will shout

“Everything is going to be okay!”

just like you told me

when I was still so young

but it won’t be to you

it will be the girl

still holding your other hand

and she won’t believe me at first

unlike how I believed you

but when I don’t return

she will understand that

without you

and only without you

will everything be okay.

On Second Thought

I used to think that blue eyes were beautiful

as everyone does

but I’ve been noticing lately an apathy behind them

whether it’s hidden well or it isn’t.

I used to think, too, it was only a single pair of blue eyes

that bore resemblance to that revile that I loved so much

but I’m getting better at looking past vibrant irises

and into a narcissistic stoicism.

Don’t get me wrong,

I still think that they’re beautiful,

a vivid and dispassionate warning that there is pain ahead,

and now that I’ve come to understand what lies behind them

I love them even more.