And though it seems that I have somehow

Managed to un-drown,

I cannot shake this feeling

that the world will keep me down.


I think I love you.



What goes on in your mind?

A cycle of struck sentiment around your serpentine heart.

An orbit

that I no longer want.


I much prefer the milky way

over the deluded, concave part

of your universe,

indifferent to mine.


I don’t miss you.

I don’t miss you.

I miss the way you would make me forget,
that my teeth are not perfectly straight
so that I would smile with a full heart.

I miss learning your alphabet
and the sound of foreign words.
Knowing you would take the time
out of your morning
to tell me to have a good day.

I miss the constant disagreement.
An apple does not
have the same effect as a cup of coffee.
Kissing girls does not
make me bisexual.
Keynes is not
Superior to Friedman.
But who the fuck cares, when it’s all in good fun?

I suppose that against
my best of judgments,
I miss the me
that I used to be
whenever your Aura
would let me see

what lightning is.




We are (k/∞) constants over infinity

Calculus one,

On the chalky green board

we are asked to solve for a limit.

The premise here is

As the question implies,

that x will tend to infinity.


We factor out x,

we simplify more,

and we are left with something surreal

That a constant divided

into infinite parts

will be nothing, a zero. Ideal.


Ideal because, this zero tells me

that the constants in life,

those are us.

We’re divided by time

into infinite fragments.

So eventually we’re only dust.


Note: The limit of any constant number divided by infinity will tend to zero. Imagine dividing something an infinite amount of times, eventually the fragments of that something will be so small, they will be practically nonexistent.

the ants in my veins

There’s no blame in refusing me

I’m a cemetery, love.

There are too many things that have long since been buried,

I cry when I feel and I cry when I don’t.


But maybe you’ll learn that even in graveyards

The stillest of hearts are still hearts in their own.

That even though mine is cold and forgotten

it can hurt, it can bleed, it can change, it can grow.


Remember that even where death is most present,

where the moon fails to light, where the people don’t go,

the soil tends to breed the most beautiful flowers

I promise to show, if you pass through this door.

Alliteration Agenda pt.2

Technically touching teary tenacity,

Literally losing luminous lights.

Irrationally inquiring inconsequential ideas

Nostalgically navigating nauseating nights.

Happily holding hateful hinges

Slowly sustaining specific sparks.


Why worship wasted weakness?

For finding falseness in fearing fights.


Alliteration Agenda

Largely lacking loving livelihood

Helplessly harboring hazardous hope

Strongly securing sentimental sanity

Relentlessly reaching rational rope


Carefully crafting convincing controversy

Finally finding fiery fortitude

Powerfully portaging parlous potentiality

Absolutely accepting abnormal attitude


Aisling A.

Finding a Way Out

I'll find a way out of this wave,
that rolls me and drags me across the pain.


I'll find a way for my tears to save.
So when you come back
I'll rise up in glory.


And if you survive, you can tell the sad story
of how I drowned you,
in your own misery.


Aisling A.

A Poem for Myself

  1. Say what you will about life,
  2. You’ll find that you know nothing yet.
  3. 18 years are a fraction
  4. of all attraction and action
  5. the future will bring.
  6. Never judge yourself harshly
  7. or believe you can judge all.
  8. Since experience has told you,
  9. that time is a concept
  10. embedded with conflict
  11. but with transient ways.
  12. Remember that problems,
  13. may always be solved
  14. if you just keep your head clear
  15. if you keep heart strong.
  16. If you just show compassion,
  17. if the anxiety is rationed,
  18. Destiny will find it’s way…

Aisling A.