when you
kiss him
in the rain
you are also
kissing the rain.

I cannot find
a proper snack.

stress is sneaky
it grabs you from the back
pulls you
out of your skin
muscles grow tighter as
you grow less aware of them
brain clenches
stress will try to
compress you
shock and overdrive
in the name of production
things need to
get done.

we all made daisies
we presented them to the class

their daisies were
blinding white and
butter yellow

my daisy was
scorched

their daisies were
small and slight

my daisy was
big and awkward

when their daisies lifted their heads
mine cowered in shame

I made a hundred more daisies, quite like the first.
a compost pile assumed the space
beneath my desk

out of it
grew a garden.

the city is ripped
trees grow through the cracks
I extend my arm
until it rests
at home
on what is too solid to be moved
and too slow to be understood.

when you wrap around yourself
stretch too wide
you are thrown back inside
the stone closes behind you
from the outside
it looks like a tomb
but inside
it is warm and soft like
laundry coming out
of the dryer
people wonder where you've gone
their eyes search your vacant expression
they cannot
touch you.

what if
you're just
an idea?