Your presence is of the suffocating variety.

I wish I could say that I mean that in a metaphorical, poetic way, but I don’t. You literally make it difficult to get air into my lungs. Across the room, a single stare, a soft laugh. One tiny smile, and I can’t breathe.

It’s almost funny. How pathetic I am, I mean. I could be on my knees with my hands bound, my head bowed beneath the guillotine, and I still would be better off speaking like that than knowing you are in the vicinity. I could address the masses in the nude on national television more easily than I can respond to your witty banter or knowing smirk.

And it is knowing, isn’t it? You know all too well that your presence turns me into a hot mess, and I bet you get off on that.

No, I know you get off on that.

Arrogant prick.

It shouldn’t be allowed, for such egotistical people to be so beautiful or so charming. You are the proof that if God does exist, he’s not a kind, loving God, but an asshole, because why else would he create someone as dangerous as you? Someone so efficiently destructive and persuasive, so unforgivably attractive and cunning? I bet you could make murder seem deeply romantic.

No, I know you could.

…I don’t agree with anything you believe in.

I don’t support a single thing you want to change in this world.

You’re a menace and a threat; you’re the most bigoted, irrational, infuriating person I have ever come across… and I have come across a lot of bigoted, irrational, infuriating people.

…But none who were suffocating.

Across the room, a single stare, a soft laugh. One tiny smile, and my breath is stolen as quickly as though the blade’s been dropped and cut clean through my neck –  your laughter, the executioner.

At least my murder will be deeply romantic.







You are the rainbow after the storm.

You are a reality and a fantasy, you are the result of water and logic and a child’s wistful imagination. You inspire dreams and fiction, you cause people to stop and stare –  to forget the torrid winds and lightning strikes that just tore their worlds apart.

I do everything for you.

I chase your spectrum for a gilded promise, only for you to vanish before I ever come close. I hunt storms and stand in the rain, waiting for the moment when the clouds will clear and you might expose yourself again.

Sometimes, you do.

Sometimes, you don’t.

I still chase, I still hunt.

I still stand in the rain.


Climb with two legs, four, eight.

Conquer my still body with every appendage, scale me with your tongue.


And when you crawl across my soft, closed lips,

Know that this I kiss you so dearly.

And when you trail over my soft, closed lids,

Know that I see you so clearly.


I’m dancing in my mind for you.

I’m celebrating the descent.


Skeleton Exaltation 

“I want to drag my teeth down your spine, to count each bump of your vertebrae with my tongue… When we die, all that remains are our bones. Your skin will decay, your lips will rot; only your skeleton will last. So please, give me a moment. Allow me to worship your immortality before I return to your skin, your lips.”


This fire will be the death of me.

I can’t contain it, I can’t fight it. My veins are flowing with lava, burning me alive from within. My skin is hot to the touch. I’m scratching at my arms and shins like I might be able to pierce the flesh and rip the heat out of me, like I might let these liquid flames pour out of my body and not take my life with it when they go.

This was your fault.

…I was once ice.

I liked being cold, I flourished in the quiet of my winter shell, the darkness of my snow-covered cavern. I could have hibernated forever, icicles clinging to my hair and lashes like crystals adornment. I was beautiful, I was safe.

I couldn’t feel anything.

…Why did you come?

Why would anyone so full of heat come crawling into this cave? Why would you wrap your arms around a frozen beast and melt its crystals adornments?

…Did you think you were saving me?

This fire will be the death of me.

Snow Globe

I am everything that you are not.


I’m such a twisted, tortured soul, and every inch of me is blackened.

I don’t have anything to offer anyone,

I breathe in warmth,

And exhale ice.


You’re such a vibrant, brilliant mind, and every thought of yours is golden.

You give everything to everyone,

You breathe in sins,

And exhale light.


I want to keep you all to myself.


I’ll trap you in a glass sphere and put you on my shelf,

Breathe my coldness onto you so you can make it into something soft and pure.

My eternal snow globe,

My forever trophy.


You are everything that I am not.




I know that this will kill you.

Holding you with these cloth-covered hands, I know this theft spells your death. But there is no help for it, you were too beautiful not to touch. This is your fault. You did this.

I picked you from among dozens, you special, crystal dagger. You were the longest, you were the finest. I plucked you from the rafters like a thief stealing a slim and frigid diamond.

But you’re not a stone.

Stay with me, ice, until I can show you to the world. Wait for me to show you to the others so that they may know that you were real, that my run-down, dilapidated house produced you. That beautiful things really can come out of that place that I call home.

Let me show them… please.

Then you may melt in my hands. I’ll even hold you to my chest, if you like. You can thaw in the warmth of my soft and grateful embrace.

That would be a nice way to die, I think.

Just let me show them, first.