There’s never going to be a time when I won’t miss you
When the mere thought of you tears me limb from limb and I have to get back up and start all over again
There will never be a time it won’t hurt for me to let go of you
And I’ll hear all kinds of stories about you one day, how you’ve found the love of your life, how you’ve found a new place to live, about how your happy,
And all I will think of misery,
Because I know you, I know miserable


There are pieces of my body that have burned down to the bone and they fall apart between your fingers. The crumbling, the crumbling.

I am waiting for you to turn on a heel, turn back down the hill. Disappear. I am waiting for you to stop waiting for me. Who knows if I will ever be able hold the words “love” and “you” in my mouth at the same time? Warning: I won’t. I won’t until it’s too late and you are already gone.

I am asleep on your couch. I am asleep in your bed. I am asleep in your arms. I am awake inside my body for the first time in years. Please help me keep my eyes open.

You know me like the way my toes curl when I listen to Motzart. You know the rituals of my mouth. You know the hymns of my body.

There is this place where you are and a place where I am. I have been trying to build a bridge with my bones but I don’t drink enough milk and things keep collapsing.

So far, so good. Keep telling yourself that. Forget the prelude to bruises and tears. Forget the expiration date. Try to forget.

These living things inside of us reach from our stomachs, reach for each other  ….  To hell with the world. Let the flames lick our feet and let the monsters in our bellies kiss each other on the mouth.


It’s just as well that we don’t end up together. I know that now. I know that. Try to remember. It’s just as well because the home I built for us inside of my body is rotting away. The mold would have found us by now. The smoke, the cockroaches. It’s just as well. I know that. But why don’t I know why you left? Why don’t I know her name?

—  “NOMENCLATURE” by kat myers
Oral Cancer

My jaw hurts from all the words left unsaid

It’s like a scorpion crawling in my brain,

pinching the nerve that causes Bell’s Palsy, 

and others think I’m anorexic because I haven’t eaten in 3 days

Anxiety is my the eighth cranial nerve, 

and I’m the sore under my tongue

keeping my own mouth shut

There’s an adolescent girl sitting within her hospital bed right now in too much pain to live anymore, 

and curses at God, 

questioning him as to why her request of a Physician-Assisted Suicide was denied

Why he would do this to her?

While her Physician went to the same God the same night 

asking why a sweet, beautiful girl is asking of him to end her life

This isn’t why he got his degree

He’s educationally trained to save lives, 

but nothing could emotionally train him to take one

All that potential energy gone, destroyed, the first law of thermodynamics - broken

It looks as though she has earmuffs on her neck from the spreading

She would tell me how badly her veins hurt, she could feel it

And it was agonizing and not fair and she could never be as strong as those kids in the commercials

Are they actors?

She would ask them

In which her Physician said

Anyone can be strong for five minutes

But all she pondered is what about when those five minutes are up? What then?

Those are the moments of the unsaid words

Causing my jaw to swell

Nine years afterwards, I still saw my psychiatrist

The same one I talked to on the Oncology Floor everyday 

while watching the Grim Reaper juggle life and death over my stone-faced face

I just now walked out of my last appointment ever

And the last thing I said to her 

and wrote down for her to give to the man who saved my life, 

“I’m grateful my darkest moment wasn’t my last

Thank you”

just one message
from you, i find myself
caving in and running back
to the forest fire
you created
with the love i gave you

                                                    your name is enough
                                                    to make my resolve
                                                    weaken and crumble
                                                    and make me wish on the stars
                                                    to lead me into your arms

                               i’m back to square one,
                               drowning way too deep
                               someone, anyone
                               teach me how to swim


Let me see your sadness
Let me caress your pain
Spill your insecurities
Peel the mask away
Lead me to your madness
Memories that will not fade
If I reveal myself, will you agree
To end the masquerade?

Your eyes leave me haunted
They have mountains to say
Your hands feel like home
But they’ve grown colder every day Everything I wanted
Is YOU, but I hide in shame
Confide in me and let this be
The end to our masquerade.



Do you remember?


Do you remember when you used to say,
We came from the same star?
That light years ago,
When the universe began,
We were created as one
Destined to come together
And fuel the fires of our existence.

With our minds bound,
Souls entwined,
and a collective future
Guided to an infinity in a finite time.

Maybe ours was a star that
Burned too brightly
And too quickly
Collapsing into the black hole
Where my heart once stood.

To the boy who won’t text back;

You confessed you liked me, you reiterated the fact that
You were ‘interested’,
You told me about your past and let’s just say
I did the same.
In flash of strobe lights and criss-cross streetlights,
You decided that I wasn’t enough anymore.
Rapid decision,
I wanted you then, I don’t want you now
I am not like other guys, but exactly the same.
Attachment. Exactly my expertise,
You used it against me,
And left me ill at ease.

The Box

This box was given to me for life.
Patterned with stained windows and pews,
I kneeled inside and obliged.
Reading material and jewellery,
I started to wonder if I enjoyed the stories;
I started to wonder if the beads suited me.
I knelt on routine like a crutch
words like precious comfort.
Now I break from those rules, I look past men
the lid is opened, and so is my mind.
Suddenly words seem ineffective
suddenly routine seems false.
I vow to stay outside of the box
I promise to live free of limits,
only, I left my soul inside those walls
when times get tough I must return,
I cannot tell if the box is safer
I do not know if I should call it home.

Too soon

I notice the way you use my arms as a cage,
To contain your broken pieces,
And the amount of uncertainty that forms in your voice when you whisper “I love you,”
Makes me second guess all that we’ve grown to be.
I hate how robotic it has become for your lips to trace down my spine, as if you’ve already explored every ounce of my galaxy.
I can feel how our fingers cling to each other’s,
For the fear of losing grip on the only stable thing we’ve seen in what feels like centuries.
I look into your eyes, while you look into mine,
And our lips press together mechanically, as if we’re using our tongues to find something.
Something to make this emptiness, empty from our veins.
Your arms outline me,
While mine do the same,
All I can say is “I’m sorry,”
Because it’s too soon,
To soon for things too feel this way.

have you ever seen a fire?
really seen it.
the beginning and end and hues that descend
while ahead, overhead, and all around, whispers of ash lighter than feathers glide,
weighing less than smoke.
if you really saw a fire, you would know transcendence
and you would be afraid.
this is for the girls who pluck and the boys who recycle lines,
for the spirits that never truly died,
for the flight or fight verve hiding in abolished nerves, effervescent and dormant,
hungry in our friends’ bodies.
i heard the echo of your footsteps across a wooden bridge while you sang out of tune,
against the grain of lark-song,
about how you want to be a tree in winter
free of heavy leaves.
and how you wanted to marry a lighthouse keeper
because the thing about lighthouses is that ships never come near.
there’s something in that horizon glow like a siren’s song
but the sailors learned their lessons
back when they were children
and remembered to steer clear.
there’s an odyssey in the glass scars of knuckles;
i spent the night with a man but all i can remember are his hands,
and they way he let me examine them
like i expected words to appear on the lines
and tell the future of us.
call it foreshadowing or hindsight, but there never was an us
except for when we were one.
he spread on the floor and i sprawled on the couch,
waiting for sweat to evaporate and words to come,
but the words were never there.
i’m sad that you and i didn’t care,
but we’ll always be too young
and whatever might’ve happened,
could’ve been,
rests in the crypt of never was.
it’s an unmarked tomb full of the gunpowder we buried wet,
something archaeologists won’t understand.
there’s one man who will always remind me of moss,
but you’re the one of cobwebs and dust
and cheap fitted sheets shrunk in the wash.
—  g.u.

Starlings, feathered children of the heavens,
I have never observed you to have a care.
Do I envy you your freedoms? Yes.
With each flap of your wing, you determine
the twinkle of every star.
I revere you for your song-filled days
and the pact you have with the spangled sky:
to caress it with the tips of your wings
and never fall prey to the follies of man.
And though you are called common,
there is little of the ordinary in your coats,
for your feathers are iridescent and
your bellies mimic the spotting of the night sky.
I have always subscribed to a world that mourns
the lack of woodland gods and sprites,
but I now see my fault, for who needs myth
when fact surpasses fantasy in the presence
of such extraordinary, available beauty?

Random Contradiction

Close your eyes
And take a look around
Feel the earth
With gravity pulling you down

In every shadow there’s the light
Latching onto you close and tight
Take a deep breath and then a step
Without knowing where you’d end up next

Time continues to tick on by
As the final hour becomes a lie
Driving you mad til the point insane
By someone you thought you’d talk to again

Random thoughts of life and death
Treated like logic in an I.Q. test
Trying to understand makes us forget
That we live a life of oposition

Heat and cold
Light and dark
The game of life and death
Random contradictory remarks

If this made sense, good for you. If it didn’t I’m with you all the way.


I am cold,
Though the air is warm.
Inside of my heart is a growing storm.
This world is grey,
And I can’t believe,
How dark, that things have grown to be.
If you notice how I distance myself,
Don’t take it personally.
Write it down,
and send it in the mail.
I’ll be sure to reply.
I’m contagious, and I’ve grown bitter with time,
I touch you lightly,
with the fear of pressing too deep,
And shading you with my dark disease.
I’ve got a real knack for ruining good things,
I’m bitter because I know you’ll leave.