Emmy

This is Her!

alone’n you.

but i don’t wanna be with you—
i wanna be alone with you.
i wanna sit opposite your pretty face

and talk to you about music—
about art, books, the media,
about life and death and literature—

and all the stupid shit in between:
like family, school, our general health or
why we never fell in love the way we wanted to.

kids (or not) and coffee dates.
i wanna talk to you about the last fruit that you ate.
i dunno, i don’t just wanna be with you

i wanna be alone with you.

she said:

I do so admire your positivity.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.

Makes me feel weird when I bring
to you sadness like that’s not cool
at all.

double trouble

they wear the same type of clothes
and the same type of cologne,
and I need them both like
my tender heart needs to be left alone

when they get up close,
not a single tear in sight—
I need them more than I can say:
like butterflies to light.

sans sarcasm

the tongue
is in the mouth
around the flesh

the air
is chilling skin
and pulling breath

and the bones
are dripping sin
onto the bed

but eye

who but ego
is enough to drown
this ego

11:55 PM

things are way too good
the feline in me unfurls—
it feels like i am stretching
for the first damn time in years.

Exciting the Sappho Inside Me

god i’m hopeless
and i’m dying
(well, we both are)
so i’m trying
to muster up that courage
and tell her all those wicked thoughts
i’ve been entertaining in my day-dreams—

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