I sleep at night just like everybody else,
only rougher, harsher, harder
than average. Nothing special
about thinking every night is the last
just so you can fall asleep.
No matter what, morning always comes
the same
for all people.

I meet and talk to people just like
everybody else. Only that I
stumble at my heart, bleed all the time inside.
I keep crying in all the wrong ways,
keep abusing my voice,
can't tell anymore what's incorrect.
So nothing to fix, nothing to be curious about,

there's no question in the first place, only
if
waving is
the
way to
say
goodbye,
would you
consider
me
as the
ocean?

dancing to the sound of headache,
i needed you more than i'd anticipated.
"catch me only when i fall,"
as though falling was the only thing
about catching.
strands of hair have never bothered me so much
it starts hurting
instead of motivating me to get up,
to get up, to get up and unwreck my dress.
i fell ill.
at this point usually we laugh it off,
how temperature must've been feeling sick
of those unaffecfed.
we hit the rock as if there was no other way (there wasn't)
to fill an hourglass full enough
we wouldn't have to worry about time--

silly us--but, actually
that's what i like about
you.

Can't you sleep
when the
sky crumbles

Tender, heavy, that
is happiness for
you. A nocturne

lies upon your
soul, moth which wings
clear as cakes of the

clown. Can't
you
sleep when

the
earth breaks for
your

body, light
and
swollen

is a girl
shining shy
Poured down the ground

I look pale. Where's the blood?
They are scared. I knew it.
What gets better? They are all gone.
It's dusty. Fragile. Old thing.
We all want to leave the town. Admit it. Just like that.

light, light, light. it's a whole experience. cut me into two pieces. right left. i'd never been so symmetric. the ground sparkled. dorothy knocking. the house blown. wind whisper leaves laugh. i'd never felt such courage. candles weren't lit in the dark haze was reflecting the light.

moon hanging too low it hit my head. ruby glistened between the branches. hands reaching out for fear, god trembling and dropped the glass. it rained hurt only to remind life to remain. every body is a coffin to the soul, food to the soil. when finally we are one it doesn't happen. the window was open. only small i carefully ran away it doesn't end.

when you're sick your mind is not right
all you want to do is to survive
but everyone's telling you you're mistaken
"no, not like that" yet never did they
then tell you like what,
like what in a way you can understand

At least I can go home if I want to. I can wash away all the earthquakes but I choose being crumbled instead. Glad you are here. You are watching me swell as I go closer to death. Is it so comfortable in my head--I think not--you do not leave me even when your body does?

This is more okay than nothing at all. I know what nothing at all means. That only means me when I am not anywhere and have nowhere to go, that only means you when you are nowhere yet everywhere but here. I am sad, too, when I had to accept that the soil, sand, sea--that all of it was you.

Was it really you, or just was the sky this blue before you left? Was it pure, or was it bitter? You sing and smoke and we talk. You smile, I stop, heart stops, flow stops, and I really have nowhere to go. If only that had tasted salty yet sweet, at least I had my own tongue. Though none of the papillae now matters.