⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ I rub my eyes too much Maybe I loved you because I didn't rub them enough

What would you say if I were to be fixed?

Where would you build your home? Mine, In a heart upon a hill And so with every beat I would find a new room To its left With distant...

Counting the shapes traced along my spine, I fall to sleep Distantly, I begin to hear the soft shuffling of the railway line The train...

A sickly-yellow arm of the Sun draws upon my brow. It beckons me to my August window, clinging closely to the eggshell-plaster draped...

I burn as my heart weeps in This Empty Northern Hemisphere

April has brought me home this summer evening. There is a huge field of sunflowers Just beyond my garden; And over it are parasails...

Last night I dreamt of a carousel horse. It lingered just outside my doorstep, patiently waiting for thumbed assistance to ring the...

If I placed a magnifying glass over my eyes, not my hands, or the fingers stretching out from them like these sunflowers to the sun; but...

my heart is as sour as a poet's should be as sour as poetry It drips of the meagre sounds of its own reflection the stuttering gasp of...