Once upon your Kindness, I met a
marine who was a nun, and she could
waltz with as much Grace
as she could cut a cake with a scythe
at her wedding! You’d have Served me, had you
been at the reception, lemonade, Stronger a
yellow than that of the sun, that lights up the world for
you to be something I see.
I’d have passed you the strawberries for
her Genuine cucumber-butter sandwiches,
Sweet like Compassion, grass green like
the itch of being Alive. I’d have
Tag: writing
insomni
i let my mind anxiety
in the moonlight
for hours.
four hours.
i’m well aware
it hurts,
not helps,
nor saves. it’s about
the work it’d take
if i’m okay / sure, careful
My brain runs down
every branch of the thought tree
while my body
is still beginning to climb the trunk.
Yet, my body
hammers eight 8th notes
while my brain
stays on a whole rest.
If I have a soul,
I think that it is the puppeteer
Boxes
He said, You’re the most complex person I
know, and I said, Thank you,
I have complex trauma.
Fielding
Oh, I don’t trust anyone
further than I can throw them,
or, more importantly,
closer than I
can extend my arms
to hit them.
Coral
I want to be the green palm tree standing between
the sand and your pink sea-side cottage. I mean,
I want everyone who washes up on your
shore to know that I decorate your home.
Slices
You shoot me a mere glance, while I’ve zeroed in on
my twiddled thumbs, but my peripheral vision
fires a snapshot of your energy’s self-directing, and
I straddle it. I revisit it alone on the toilet, in the recliner.
Risk
Someday, I will learn
I can respect another’s autonomy and my
own at the same time,
allow others control while
taking responsibility,
give people my emotions without
manipulating theirs,
and be dominated by
compassion instead of fear—
Essence
Cupid shot me through the heart
and wanted to know if I was still bleeding,
so I said, Cupid, what kind of blood is this?
crash
i didn’t mean to sell my soul to the devil. the
words were mixed in the comic book, an
d i was playing them on my tongue, processing
them in my mind, producing them like a con
demned symphony. i asked my mom
how to get it back, but she said, shouldn’t
Alphabet Ravine 