I
hardwood floors and earthquakes. share cracks. but hardwood floors can’t destroy cities. and you, my friend, are an earthquake.

II
i planted flowers in the cracks. not for beauty, but for forgetting.

III
all i see is yellow. and i cannot remember.
the sunflower grows from the crevice.

a splash of bleach in your coffee
clorox for cream
we like substitutes anyways
there’s no difference in extreme

milk the plants
and pretend
it helps

drink the disinfectant  
to see how it felt

that’s what he said
to be a chair, to be a wall
atoms are atoms are nothing at all

so sip the citrus
and hope to survive
patience is a thing
we cannot contrive

to slow down time
we took acid
boiled water
and watched

we wanted more of the enigma
more ticking

but the water boiled too quick
morning was knocking at the door
and our tongues could no longer contain
the words

i love you

the desert rendered down
the fat  
and it left
a liquefied sunrise
and pink eye

do not fall asleep before the camel breaks  
for slipped disks and scoliosis
are a beacon of yellow light

do not milk the camel from your tainted eye
instead eat the suicide
drink it as a milkshake
take it, just take it
as a drug of empathy towards me

but you lack a throat
you cannot swallow
and I cannot breathe

i cannot wait to die
free myself from skin
sunscreen and subtitles

the conversation is repetitive
and your compliment is neither
kind nor informative

i cannot wait to be
without

i can taste claustrophobia
and it tastes like vanilla ice cream

white is not a color
but rather the lack there of

that is who i am
i am - everything but

the only temple i pray to
burns every summer

and my father made me into a snowflake
cold and melting

my mouth tastes like mothballs
a few times a day

maybe it means i'm dying
turning into an attic from the inside

i'm reminded
every time i say my name

i'm the illusion of a crayon box

face the jaw
the dark black
plaid taped to the wall isn't enough
to hide blue eyes
and trap door wells
insecurities in an international plug isn't enough
i just don't fit

come home
so i don't have to think
love is plaid upgraded to flannel
warmer on an atomic level
something fingertips feel
help me feel it, please

because i'm driving a manual
and i need a softer touch
i don't speak the language
but i was always a foreigner
so there isn't much difference in saying hello
and shifting

stop with the excuses
start to watch
with binoculars see who you come from
maybe the tension will pass
or maybe life is tension
a strong breath and a glass of red wine

home is here
home is near