Maybe you’re not “him”
But at the very least
You’re a cool spring of water
And a field full of flowers
With the perfect tree for climbing
Along my path
Or maybe
You are an oasis mirage
But I’m heading in that direction
So we’ll see
What may be
Between you and me

Clipping my poems
so that they look cute
on instagram
so that they huddle
like chickens bound in a
butcher’s lorry
making way for pictures
feet-  in –a tangle,
like snipping a plant
for Bonsai
you think it’s the branches that you prune
but it’s really the roots that you
mangle.

She's a Monster and schizophrenic
Help me patiently wait

                        wait.