take me somewhere quiet

and sit with me awhile

stroke my hair and hum to me

and hold me in your smile

make the world okay again

and let me take it in

remind me of all I’ve yet to do

and everywhere I’ve been

let the sun come up once more

so things don’t weigh me down

remind me that this will pass

pick me up off the ground

let me see the world as good

and know what I live for

let’s just sit and rest and be

and not think anymore.



quiet piano in an

empty house; lived in,


fading carpets under

dusty feet.

loneliness and the

smell of lemons,

library books and

heavy wooden tables,

scarred, old.

tired, drooping eyes

racing thoughts circling

to nowhere

to nothing

to you.

fractions and fractals and

fragments in fractures and

headaches and

is it too much for


to live?




hold my hand

over the table and

i trace freckles like they will

spell out

some way to reach

your heart.

the skin of your palm

is rough and cool and

your fingers

swallow mine;

skin the color of

hot cocoa before

it is stirred against

my own.

and I wish I could kiss

the bridge of your nose

and rest my chapped

lips on your brow,

but I am too scared

to say a word

so we leave as strangers

in faded pastels

on a muted backdrop

that we will both soon forget.



today is saturday,

another in a chain

of saturdays stretching on,

linked, pulling, fragile–

today is saturday,

but I am tired of it.

each second passes,

each minute, each

hour changes me

and I am afraid of the


of saturdays

I have yet to live.

who will I be when I wake up


my saturdays are finite

but yours are limited

and we’ve never really

been able to breathe