memoirs of a pianist.

new notebooks, dry erase markers. teal and purple.
new paths, new family. new deaths.

death is just as played out as family.

we wander the streets, listening to the synchronization of cars
honking
honking at nothing
honking at the cabs fucking around.

my silence is heavier than gold
not as precious, but as dense.

They ask me what I've done, what I'm doing, they see me
moving up they want my name
and number signed on the line
in the very blood that races
through the dark tunnels in my
mind dying.

chakras imbalanced, but you knew that
you know me
you know me
I know nothing but self

empty mind empty mind empty mind empty mind
focus on your breathing
not the money in your bank account
it's not forever
so find your forever
find that shit before you forget
you'll forget
they always do.


the higher up you get, the more friends you lose.
pick and choose to stray towards the light
or in the dark where the raccoon's hiding
spot is right beside the tree you smoke by
the bodega you buy dutches at
sewers by the Foot Locker you
consume at


I saw the sun today for the first time in what feels like months.
It looked me in the eyes and told me how nice it was to see me.

I've grown too accustomed to following stars until late.

whispering melodies

and for anyone that's lost, fellow nomads

you will find home.