Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing

during duvet days
and nights when teeth gnash against one another
like broken splinters in your mouth
tasting blood and
legs restlessly walking their way across the bed
when blankets wrap around too tight
thrown off in the heat of the night
then reclaimed when the cold becomes something more personal
more intimate and hurtful
when you feel more alone than you’ve ever felt
and breathing seems so foreign and like a chore rather than a prize
i want you to know
i am here
i am here
and i will fight every demon
and i will sit by your side
your hand in mine
and i will sing with a broken voice
which dips too low and cracks too high
and i will sing to you until the sun rises
until your eyelids begin to droop
and i will be your dream catcher
your protector
i will fight it all for you
i want you to know that
i will fight the worst of it
because i may be small and i may be weak
but you make me strong and
maybe
just maybe
you give me something worth fighting for

Last Tuesday Club, Uncategorized, Writing

“You know you’ll never fuck me, right?” She says carefully, her tone light but her face serious.

“I never – ” I begin.

“I know, you never thought about it. It’s what every boy says. But I wanted you to know. Because people – people don’t always understand. They have an idea in their head, of me, of what I am and what I do. And I need you to know, I don’t do that. I don’t fuck around with people,” she’s serious now, every ‘fuck’ rolling off her tongue like a blunt instrument falling to the ground.

“I wouldn’t,” I say.

“Wouldn’t you?” She smiles slightly, sadly.

“Never,” I say, lying through my teeth. Of course I would, in a second, yes, I would, if only she liked me the way I liked her.

“Don’t make a liar of yourself. It’s a sad way to live a life,” she says.

“Then don’t ask me impossible questions,” I say.

“Isn’t that what I’m here for?” She asks, and I begin to wonder if she’s not entirely right about that.