Poetry Snacks

Peace is waking up beside you, gently breathing in the darkness.

I want you from the sunrise of our firstborn to the sunset of my final day.

I want to tell you I love you with my bare hands, working hard on my calloused feet, and comfort you in my arms.

Peace is waking up beside you, and I love you down to the last atom.

Screen Shot 2016-01-07 at 9.18.14 PM.png

View original post


Calle Colombia & Valapraisco

In my headphones ignoring a world I always saw was a man who wore the same scuffed shoes everyday and the same clothes. His complexion was almost black as tar. He owned the corner like a piece of real estate standing there every morning directing traffic and parking cars for people who didn’t need it. All this for loose change and euros. Honest and easy work for pay with no taxes. He saw me and I saw him but we never looked at each other. And then finally, in the most awkward moment of my life we locked eyes and said hi. When I think of Spain, it’s beauty and history is drowned by that corner and his face.

A man with no name became the best memory of my life and my biggest regret of not saying more.

Primal Politicizing

Global atrocities have been slowly chipping away at my being ever since I left Spain and things that previously mattered don’t hold much value to me anymore. I’m sitting here trying to make sense of this haunting staring out my damn window in a loud silence of thoughts.


I want to burn all of my books, take a hammer to my electronics and fold all my pretty little poems into paper airplanes and throw them out of the window. No matter what I do or wherever I go those thoughts of loose end relationships follow me.

I don’t want to think of you
Or hear you

I want to pretend to forget that I’m not bothered

I want to imagine I slept with myself on the edge of a cliff

I want to know how short moments feel long and why I carry those moments with me

I never see or hear from you but I see and hear you everyday in my thoughts

I’m writing when I should be sleeping Hoping these last few words will put me to bed

No I wasn’t in love and you didn’t break my heart

But you hurt my soul

I want to pretend to forget that this poem is about you



Lonely Faces


Smiles and curly hair

cover an absent void

with a bottle of wine

An empty room of colors

and a four legged creature

does not fill the other side of the bed.

Does no cling

like a perfect pair of half heart chains

And does not hold itself

Books hug me

Classrooms of scatter charts

And international reforms

Give forehead kisses

Meaningless jobs

Smoother the private parts of my body

With green faces

All a distraction from the obvious