you said that you couldn't see any cracks
now i see shortcomings littering the faces
of the boys around me, caked on their skins,
in the way they speak I hear the tone that tells
me that this is not quite there

even if blinded, even if because i had just learnt to see
i miss thinking someone in this world was perfect

maybe you don't have to fall in love
like falling off a cliff
maybe you don't have to fall in love
like a fuzzy sock and a conductor
like a spark in a dark room
maybe you don't have to fall in love
in a way that consumes you
in a way that makes you never
breathe when you're apart
maybe you don't have to fall in love
so that you don't remember what
it feels to sit alone and tell your
story to people you do not love
maybe you don't have to fall in love
so that every inch of your skin
has touched the mouth of another
so that every edge of your mind
you think that you have surrendered
maybe you don't have to fall in love
so that you would scoop yourself out
so that you think every moment about
the consequences so that you are so
completely more than one
maybe you don't have to fall in love
at all.

i decide i like you
because your smile is effusive
and i can see it spread across your face
whenever i take a glance

you tell me that you don't write poetry
but that you'll try
you let me look at the stars and
follow my fingers

try to fathom the big dipper and
ask me about my brother

i remember the names of your friends
and lose at pool

today we take pictures of each other
and i think that is a good sign

i decide that i like you
i try to forget

written in the inside of my english copy of one hundred years of solitude (circa 3/24/16)

If I touch you
in the light of my room
will you disappear?
and dissemble all the gloom

Skins a luxury
and I know I must act soon
but you humble me
with your eyes like the moon

light
beams/I cannot hold
my love/will not be sold
when distance/turns my words cold
I wish that/things won't grow old

If I think of you
will you plunge in like a knife
when in solitude
starve my stomach, give me strife

compartmentalize
is what they tell me, what they say
turn time into boxes
turn your cardboard face away

night-thoughts

blue blue
where are you
i am writing about you
yet not thinking about you
as a whole entity

in this bed
we lay for hours
i let you nap while i
lay awake you held me
in your arms

i wonder where you are now
i wonder what you're thinking of

i miss you until i remember
that people knew me before you

maybe i'm not an artist

we knew each other in second grade

by that logic lee
knows me better than you
do

and you have known me
as closely
as i have

been known. is it an

artists job to make it all make
sense or can we just be

millennials and whine away