I stared off into the distance
Always repeating
Never wanting to be the one retreating
I stared off into the distance
Always repenting
Never wanting to be the one sinning
I stared off into the distance
Always glowing
Never wanting to be the one dimming
I stared off into the distance
Always claiming
Wanting to be the one who determined the next distance

Together we'll tackle
Everything from
Breakfast to mountains
And we'll face decisions
Like blueberry or maple
Like climb or trek
And we'll handle it all
With yes dear or
No sweetheart
you're drunk

One nation under assault,
one nation under pressure,
one nation claiming greatness against
an outdated measure.
With liberty and justice stockpiled commodities
and legions of disgruntled youth
left to deal with the atrocities.
One nation under-loved
One nation over-policed
One nation claiming Jesus
wearing the tell-tale mark of the beast.
With hate in the left hand, and hate in the right,
and both hands balled up like we're dying to fight.
A New Day, they call this perpetual night
This suffocating darkness that chokes out the light
And EVERYBODY THINKS THAT THEIR SIDE IS RIGHT.

One nation underwhelmed by the policies they chose
One hypocrisy of a democracy, calling their own stink a rose
One thing after another, no wonder the kids are cynics now,
thinking "You CAN'T make it better, WE don't know how."
Love is lost in the struggle between apathy and hate
America, the beautiful.  America, the great.
America, the fractured paragon,
We cling to ghosts of a changing time
We've fallen for the distractions, and
our pedestal is too high to climb.

Oh brothers, oh sisters, what else can we do?
If you'll look out for me, and I look out for you,
just a ripple in this pool of ****
may clear the waters, just a bit.
But as long as there are white votes
black votes
Latino votes
left votes
right votes
there'll be no vote of confidence
in the future of these divided states.
We'll rip ourselves apart,
tear out our own heart
waving our flags the whole time
and claiming no blame for the divide.
God Bless America,
and do it quick.
All sides of this society
are dying or sick.

My plant is dying.
Her long chlorophyll-filled leaves
drooping, sagging, lacking.

The sun barely shines on her anymore
as the shadows claim her
in the corner of my windowsill.
The only window in my tiny room
and it receives the least amount of light
due to the angles of the sun—
an inhibitor of her vegetative maturation.
As it is there’s hardly any daylight
left to give.

Winter is drawing near, and I should
learn to close my window
so the cold can't creep in—
but I open it anyway,
afraid to let go of any residual summer
that might still litter the increasingly frigid air.
Where did the time go?

The cold doesn't agree with her,
despite being a succulent—supposedly hard to ****—
so I trim the broken, withered limbs,
break them off so the plant can breathe again.
The now bare stem looks lonely.
So I water the dry dirt in hopes that
she’ll grow once more.

I would sleep better on your floor
Than I do in my own bed.

I hate sleepless nights
And rolling over to the spot you always lay
Instead of into your arms.

I would enjoy the scratch of your carpet on my body
And pillow creases against my cheeks
As long as it means I'm next to you.

I can't stand all these pillows anymore
Without you to share them with.