yeah.
one of those days
the write off day
the I’m going to laugh cause it’s not even past 12 day
the kinda day were you debate a lottery ticket
but somehow you even lose that
on the way back to the car
and your keys somehow
anyhow

yeah.
one of those days
best to write off
with ramen
and a corona or two

or sunbrew

whatever works
to write off
a little day
for you

Listening to him say “not her”
tickled something in my brain
to be loved is to be seen
but not in the normal sense
nah
in the perfect quirky out of breath hair in your face but still put together? Kinda quirky
as I savour another perfect bite
of Brie/rosemary/prosciutto
I’m left to wonder

why the hell not her

life is too short
to not offer
the passerby
my innermost thoughts
in a flirtation
a smile
if I can’t do anything to put a smile on one person’s face
I’m not doing anything
of any importance
at all

amidst the thunder
and the wind
the churning waves
aching to break
hear me
roar
with the waters
last refrain

do you dream?
i whispered across the sheets
fidgeting to pretend like i didn't care about what you said

maybe i was a child
we couldn't work because our shirt colours didn't match

cause that makes sense right?


but he told me you can't change parts of people they are not aware of
and I wonder
how much of me did he mean?

because I am a dreamer
a child
and maybe a poet
learning about the cracks
and gallows I have yet to acknowledge

but I do dream
hoping for more
sometimes more pain
more sunshine
more anguish
more wonder
and occasionally more paint  

simply because I only know how to operate
in 'moreness'

as I roll my eyes
yes I am aware

I am hoping to figure it out too

I spent the day
humming the hymnals of spring rain
of rebirth as I washed up to my elbows in dirt
reminded of how unassuming a tangle of roots can be
and the way rosemary smells like a violin sounds
That being kissed by the soil, cradling a cheek with a swipe
is more fulfilling
than I’ll ever
be able
to articulate

human beings were made to be touched
softly
with such devotion and reverence
and maybe a little awe
tracing the littlest scrapes
scars & freckles
like the shrines of every idol
to worship at the throne of messy hair
and drums of heartbeats
synced to a choir I only hear
when they say my name