Waffles 

 

if it wasn’t for these 

gold chains around my neck 

I’d forget who I am 

do you want butter? 

I don’t have syrup.

she slinks against the wall

she’s making me coffee, breakfast

pavement almond pavement

give me freedom 

no, give me my gold chains 

braids around your neck 

your braids around my neck 

I’m slinking against my own inner walls

I don’t need syrup. 

I don’t want butter. 

 

 

Chewed Up

 

we unlace our high tops 

my new Nikes with the gold checks 

your old pink Chucks

been around the block a few times

too many to count

I’m writing poetry for my ex

you’re visiting yours in two weeks

I talk about darkness as if it is a 

state of being, and you are the light

there’s nothing wrong with having

a chunk bitten out of our souls 

as long as the universe chews it up well

before it swallows 

 

 

Everything in Our Stockings Was from the Dollar Tree 

 

I find pink things irresistible

you might say it’s my favorite 

color, but purple can go to hell

 

lavender your robe 

pooled around your ankles 

when your mother 

well, the cops told us that morning

 

she had eaten too much 

ice cream from the freezer

pink things all around her

Lord, her friend said they were everywhere

 

balloons lifting her from the bed

the comforter caught on her big toe

she floated above 

a violent sheet  

 

 

Dropped my Computer Twice this Week

 

avocados stay greener 

longer around you

although, I’m trying to admit

(to myself)

some songs still make me turn 

straight to whatever color means 

I’m going bad

 

what does it even matter 

if I have to tape the spiders on 

(my screen)

shatter doesn’t quite stop 

when you want it to