we are neon.
we wear it on our hair,
on our eyelids
and on our clothes.

at night,
we are nobody's sons
and nobody's daughters.
we lure in
moths
that see us like specks of light
in their own subconscious darkness.

we are alive,
but the sun still rises up
if we die.

we are neon.
beautiful and wanted,
young and noble,
our bodies shine in
yellow, green and blue,
but our wounds are red.

obsession is purple
like silk sheets and smeared lipstick and wine glasses and violets
like blood clots and night walks and voices filled with malice
having an obsessive personality is hard when you have no one worthy over obsessing over so you will obsess over yourself
2018
affirmations in my notes app
"you can do this
you can do this
YOU CAN DO THIS
you CAN do this
you can do this.
you will do this
you will do this
you WILL DO THIS."
i can feel the obsession through the lcd screen
it reeks of narcissism and airplane juice and secrets and lightness
and goals and lack of you
i wanted to be skinny to be free, not boney
to feel dreams around me in daylight and to walk on tiptoes
you are the heaviest ive ever felt.

hi
my soul spills onto the countertop into this cup of tea
trembling i reach out my hand to you
"i made you tea"
you already have tea steaming on the desk next to a frantic stack of paperwork
ill pull back my hand and leave the thick silence to draw in a sharp breath
this does not count as an act of kindness to you because it wasnt fully executed, and you will not remember it.