You have no idea
Just how lucky you are
You have nothing to fear
For you, life isn't hard

You may complain
About being less important
But please, there is no shame
In meaning something to others

You whine about being the third wheel
But in your good fortune I reel
Because although you may not be the first choice
At least you are not alone.

today i touched
trees and smelled
leaves and took
a nap with my
dog and my mom
told me, "meg,
you're going to
be just fine."

and that worn out
spot- third rib down,
two inches to the
right- where i used
to tuck away all your
beautiful words, that
i cleaned out, scraped
out, scrubbed out,
bleached, rinsed,
repeated until there
was no more lingering
after burn of the things
that used to call it
home has finally started
to cool. i am waiting
for my wings to
remember that they
had a purpose before
you, that they do not
need to be licked or
pampered before they
are functional again.
i am a hot air balloon,
a lily pad, a new moon.
******* for ever having
made me think i could
be anything less.

Melancolia impregnada na alma:
Tento varrer todo esse sentimento
Com a imagem alegre que acalma
Não adianta, pesa sobre mim o sofrimento
Dos tombos dos homens do deserto.

Todas aquelas imagens apagadas
Para sempre se fazem perdidas
Desfeitas na areia calada
Se fazem eternas desconhecidas

E como eu lamento!
Oh, não podem ver?
O meu tormento?
Na areia, padece o meu ser.

Um dia, eu também tombarei
E quero em uma concha me enclausurar,
Pelas ondas flutuarei
E o mar me levará aonde eu sempre quis estar.