fragments of love

trying to fit together in the many parts that make us up.

star crossed

timelessness of first love

the power of a name spoken

Ambivalence of the heart

slipping of moments

your rhythm beating in me

an origin story of sorts

the memory of music

a moment in time, in season

the inspiration of intimacy

remembrance and longing

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crumbling.

always at fingertips

the feeling of distance

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A poem about wanting it to end

The dangers of writing poetry.

This is an attempt at a somewhat humorous description of my relationship with poetry.

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This was originally going to be written as a plural poem, but it just seemed to feel right to end it there.

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I wrote this while I was in a lecture for a night class. Everyone there seemed asleep and I wondered what kept me from leaving.

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opeth acoustic style

to right words that couldn't be found

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