Writing
My writing spans poetry, stream-of-consciousness blogs, short essays, and longer works of fiction. Upcoming books are in the works.
For more of my writing, you can explore my blog BITE MARK on my Substack, both of which are linked in the contact section of this website.
Me vs. Me
Constantly fighting urges
Figuring out which ones need violence
That's the hard part.
It's easy in theory
But the battle is bloody
And I have already been cut.
Collect my blood in buckets and pails
Dialysis for the toxins hiding inside me,
Making myself pure again.
That process is the only way
I can fly as high as the hawk
Feeling freedom between my feathers
Like the wind through my hair
As I run toward their swords -
My mind in the exact second of action
My heart opened for the kill.
I fight alone,
In the singular pursuit
Of conquering myself.
Steele Around Rabbits Fur
One time a girl told me
*A girl I liked a whole lot*
That as she got to know me
Instead of getting softer I got harder
Like I had a second shell,
A shell made of steel
And that she kept seeing it grow thicker as we spent time together.
How it confused her so
*She knew that wasn't supposed to happen*
That my outsides became harder with every conversation
When instead they should have begun to disappear.
It’s only because inside of the steel
Is the softest part of the rabbits fur
The part that sits in-between its ears
On top of their heads
So gentle
and
So Sensitive.
My wall needs extra strength
The hardness has to be there
How else would my fur be protected?
At night I tell myself lullabies that turn into songs
No one reads them
I don’t sing them
They live inside my fur
Locked up tight.
If you felt the softness of my fur
You’d see who I am
But that’s the scary part
You seeing who I am,
Everything I’ve ever felt about you
Would be right in the palm of your hand.
I can’t do that
I couldn’t handle it
It seems off putting
- to be frank.
But, what if I told you my emotions eat me alive
And that I knew,
That all of my dreams would come true
If I just let them breathe.
That’s the power I hold
The power in my hands
To make all my dreams come true.
But sadistically I don’t let them breathe
The torture keeps them warm
And comforts my ever so emotional soul
For the coldness of humanities wind
Is full of words
That I may be unable to take.
Would you say it’s a coincidence,
That two women I’ve dated
Have “tender” tattooed on their arm?
They are ones who wear their heart on their sleeve
Written down in permanent ink
For everyone to see
A reminder of who they are,
Becomes a reminder of who I could be.
Sometimes I wonder,
If during the three years
I did not allow myself to truly feel,
All of the emotions I pretended not to have
Combined like atoms
And live in me now as larger molecules,
Because I can’t go a fucking day without
What feels the torture
Taking over my life.
This stanza doesn’t really work
And I really don’t care.
Emotion is the only thing I know.
I can only feel when I allow myself to finally combust
2,200 to 2,500 degrees Fahrenheit.
It will probably hurt
But, it's the only temperature that can melt me
And I have nothing else to say.
Asking
I ask sometimes when I'm wondering within myself,
What makes a person good.
I ponder the question
And chew on my answers.
Tasting my opinions.
They are so effortlessly flavored with rage and distraught.
But maybe that says more about my company
And less about myself.
For what is deemed good to one
Is evil to another,
Painful to another,
Life ruining to another,
But potentially the truth to someone else.
Positively the enlightenment to someone else.
Is it blue like the sky or blue like the ocean?
What determines where one will go once
Their time on Earth is over?
I don’t know.
You could say it's whatever makes you happy but,
Then there’s the limits of what is allowed to make someone happy.
I guess it's up to you what considerations you want to make.
I have no answer,
I only learn.
Hoping soon that I start to become full
And its nourishment allows me to grow.