I am walking on sunshine
She walks on eggshells
But let me know,
We will cross that bridge when we get there
Just like this poem, you are a nonsense— a nuisance.

I think of you
And what you may be going through
I think of you
And send my love
Though  I am not one of His followers
I am asking your God for help from above
It’s gotta be an extra special prayer
If I take myself to go there
Praying to your God
Do I even dare?
Yes, I do
Because I care about you
And I’d do anything
To help you get through
So I say “Dear God,”
And I say “Amen,” too

Blue birds flutter feathers in morning winds.
A cardinal sings from its strong beak.
Wind carries the weightless creatures.
So delicate, so intricate. Yet, so weak.

The bird takes off from a nest of hungry mouths.
All is calm… but look in its eyes. Fires.
Does the bird fly in freedom?
Or in the flames of its own desires?

we drove past a theater that used to exist
that you used to work at
it was 90 degrees and i asked questions like i drank my water
trying to quench a thirst that sneaked in
cutting through traffic to plots wrapped around projectors

i learned that even the grey memories
the offhand exposition
and dismissive reflection
are hooks i find myself hanging
every piece of clothing i own on

we drove across the asphalt i bled on
a broken car on a hot day
it was 92 degrees and you asked questions like i drank my water

you sneak in
and i don't feel thirsty

I romanticize pain,
like it’s some kind of movie,
like it’s a fate
I live for.
no love,
still quiet —
like I’m longing for the sea
but afraid of water.
afraid of life,
so I get moldy inside.
no flowers,
just death.
birds cannot fall —
it hurts
more than a bee sting.
but I’m used to it.
the cut that always bleeds,
the cut you opened once
but can’t close now,
the cut
you have to live with.