I DON'T DRAW ANYMORE
BECAUSE I DON'T FEEL IT
IN MY BONES, I DON'T
LAUGH MUCH ON MY
OWN BECAUSE THERE'S
NOTHING IN MY STOMACH
I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M
RELYING ON TO KEEP
ME GOING, I'M JUST
GOING, GOING, GOING.

it's easy to stitch me up
but the truth is i'm still
popping at the seams
and this happiness is
a little makeshift, with
crafted motivation, i've
all but glued the glitter
on and i have to keep
reminding myself
that I no longer
get graded on
participation
this is all or
n o t h i n g

The lights are always on inside this building
The parking lot is never empty here.
Other white coats walk from room to room
Spreading their state-mandated cheer.
A baby screams out his first cry
Somewhere in the opposite wing:
New life and hope being born,
As I hook her up to a machine.
She fakes a smile when she looks at me,
But all hope escapes her eyes.
She puts the effort, but cannot fool
Despite how hard she tries.
She pushes forth a laugh, chokes on tears,
"Two more months," she says to me.
I feel my heart drop down to my toes:
"Let's not talk about such things."
Then past my boundaries, risking my job
I lean forth and kiss her smooth head.
I shake off the moment with a quick, distracting
"Here, let me change the sheets from your bed."
As I leave her room and walk out the door
Into the bleach and the blinding, bright lights,
I turn back to see her by the window
Just staring out into the night.
Every night she stands in silence,
Stares at the void, the stars, the moon.
But tonight I hear her whisper words:
"I guess I will be with you soon."

they say write out an sos
in the snow behind my house
got this livin' on the 411, what's
you're 20? I'm asking everyone
and i'm trying to get better at
cursive, I want to flow from
wave to wave but i'm getting
thrown round, rock to rock
it didn't matter anyway.
could have told me
to stop cursin' because i'm
dropping Jesus Christs like
no yesterday, Jesus Christ
where were you today? I'm
drowning in self-hatred, finding
grief is mashed potatoes, pinching
skin between these fingers, where's
this wealth in ****** freedom, just love
yourself, to love is to be loved, well
i insult myself to the point of no return
point fingers in the mirror, love. shaking
heads and sleeping sideways because i feel
the weight of skin i'm stuck inside of, a face
only a mother could love, barred behind words
from kids no longer in or of,
my life, god could it get much worse
i can't find solace in the things that used to work
painting pictures no longer soothes the pain, fields
of grass no longer hide your name, i'm lost in the
plains of isaiah, wandering the sand of achor, so
this is a door of hope? are you telling me to walk
onward? but this soul is distressed and these thighs
are worn, can't go a day without calling myself out
straight to the flaws i go in headfirst, lost all my
friends, self-esteem and sense of self-worth,
confidence is an concept i've only every dreamed of
so my mom keeps asking what I want for my birthday
and I say, happiness, a purpose, and a way home
happiness, a purpose, and a way home
happiness, a purpose, and a way home