Diet Coke and Mentos

I left my heart out too long, waiting,
leaving it there for anyone—
its effervescence ran flat like a can of coca cola.

Needed someone to wind up the key in my back
falling in love with any smile directed my way
but when I was put to their lips
they felt no bubbles

and their smiles became mouths in a yearbook photo.

Twisting me just enough turns to
step and stumble my way to someone else.

But when my clockwork gears stopped in front of you
I thought you’d kiss like the others—
you put your lips to mine and only breathed out into me
to put the carbon dioxide back in

before kissing me with a Mentos mint beneath your tongue
and I came alive in an explosion of fizz.

I, Your Body is a Graveyard, Wanderlust, I Will be Okay, Dreamed You, Mobile, I could go on and on. They are so so beautiful and alive and relatable I want to read them over and over and over. Truly. This ask doesn't even have a point to it, I guess just that your words are amazing if you didn't already know :)

This is what inspires me to keep writing, thank you (:

Solar Powered

It is in the chilled summer nights
divided into halves of dark and light
by car headlights

and the sky is a colored spin-art painting—
a burst of carnation-poppy-snowball-bush buds
and blooms and petals among clouds

and our half of the globe steers us
toward manmade light-switch hours
and golden specks of window glow
between deepest shades of blue

I know that I am solar-powered

collecting rays in the sunshine hours
like garden lamps strewn among the vegetables.

I rise as the sun sets and sparkle with the stars;
energy and brightness stored
emits as dance steps in stilettos
and lips to glasses—
lips to lips

and I light up the night.

I just wanted to say, from one writer to another, that I enjoy your poetry. It's beautiful. Also, do you have any tips for writers starting out on Tumblr?

Thank you!

I’ve given similiar advice before:

Let me know if that isn’t enough (:

Dreamed You

“There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams – not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion. It had gone beyond her, beyond everything. He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.”
—F. Scott Fitzgerald

I’ve created fantasies of you
in my mind.
I’ve sculpted you in glass bottles
like sand art
adding layers of color and glitter
filled it up to the rim
and left no breathing space—
stopped you with a cork,
stuffed you in a crackerjack bag
and made you the prize.

Pitched a striped tent
around your figure
and made you the ringleader
of feathered elephants,
stilt-walking men,
trapeze artists,
tightrope walkers—
but I’ve fed you to the lions.

Dreamed you up of daises,
tied your stems together with blue ribbon;
but a bouquet never looks as good
as it does the moment picked.

I’ve drawn lines on the walls
of your parents’ home
above the last mark your mother made
measuring your height—
you will always fall short.

i read just a few of your poems, and they were some of the most beautiful i've read. i'm speechless. please don't ever stop writing

Thank you so, so much (:


There are vapor trails in my hair
made by airplanes and space shuttles
lifting off my skull.

I think my mind is always far away—
somewhere in Kyoto

while my professor explains the differences
between pathos, ethos, logos;
I think of their country of origin.

While you take my hand and trace my palm lines
asking if I believe in fate—
no, I believe in satellites.

My heart is on a star.

At Quick Check, you stand
in front of the refrigerated drinks for 6 minutes straight
thinking over your choices.

I grab the first Arizona Iced Tea I see
and wait in the car.


I realize it’s not the falling
but the staying that is difficult.

Everything about this world
is directed towards mobility.

This planet spins and orbits
carrying us with it

pulling our hands through seasons
whether we want snow
or rain
or flowers.

Time turns us ever forward
and changes us within and without—

what I forget sometimes is the speed
at which your hair grows

and suddenly I notice it’s much longer.
It makes me ask myself

where I’ve been every millimeter
in between?


Hi! I just came upon your writing and I am in love. The first poem I read was The Way Light Moves and I was blown away. When I read Like the Sun Loves the Earth, I started tearing up. You're writing is beautiful <3

thank you so much (: