i looked down
twenty three stories

tears in my eyes
legs shaking

every intention
of falling head first

you see— i was just so tired
of having to land
on my feet

I sit at my window each dark fall and whisper
to the bright orb filling my vision.
I ask the moon to keep my secrets safe and I assure him
that it is the right decision.
The moon is my confidant;
I swim in his debt
as he hasn’t broken a promise,
not ever, not yet.

Don’t judge a book by its cover,
judge a book by its scent.

The way to discover the truth of the paper
is by embracing its broken youth
through the aroma of its past caretaker.