I have so much in me.

But most of it I’m not brave enough to write.

The honesty from others nourishes me, the honesty from myself terrifies me.

Thank you.

The flame from the candle in front of me is dipping and waving quickly. I feel that maybe it’s anxious about it’s impending death.  Swaying up and living voraciously, because it knows it has only a few hours left to swallow the fruits of the air that it breaths.

Real.

       Even if it’s mean. I don’t care if           you hate me.

Just please never lie to me.

That’s the sexiest thing I know
                      
                         to exist.

The dappled light hits my face
As lay in bed
My head on the pillow
Causing my cheek to push up into my eye

       And create wrinkles there.

An adolescent robin used to hop
On the fence
That I gaze upon
He’s been absent, I wonder what has become of him

       And now, about him, I worry.

However, the shade tree will die, as will the robin, as will I.

It’s much easier to clean up the candle drippings once the wax has congealed.

But that may take a moment.

Go to bed angry, it’s okay.

Stop being scared.

Everyone else is
       scared, too.

Just knowing that should make you

       Less frightened.