Poetry Collection V

your hand is shaking,

but nerves are okay,

because this day,

will still break, and there’s

always time, again

But none like this.








































oh jesus I have nothing more to say

when you’re already asleep

that I could take, you up in my arms?

and you could wake up,

if my voice were a little sharper,

if I, could make you, pain.

































you are,

just an ugly turn,

of shoulder skin during the dawn:

I could turn it away,

two times dark,

I could keep

myself Together.

































Pack yourself back up
Matchstick man
The wind is colder than
you thought

Ugly hands can feel
in the storm
Troubled pulses can’t hide
their shape




































tumbling for words -

gets stuck


fumbling in morning -

is sick


The sky can't be

all this blue


And all these

people, moving