The world doesn't feel real
Like a million of us could fit in a measuring cup
So make something good,
Something sweet.
All the odds and ends adding up to something,
Something that could be beautiful when it ends.
Even though I feel so lost,
I know I have it all together.
Little pieces like a puzzle,
I just can't figure out where they belong.
The wisdom will come to me,
I know it.
Through a cloud, the universe or age.
It'll all be alright.
Someone kiss me through the night.
While I hold a few bottles of wine in my young hands.
Someone hold me till I can think straight,
Someone hold me until I am whole.
I'm finally a real person,
I'm finally alive.

When I was in second grade a boy punched me
and I punched him back
until his nose bled on mulch

and ever since then I don’t chase boys
and I do not care for blonde hair anymore

when I was in second grade I would make
homes for fairies in the dirt using
moss and leaves and dandelion stems

when I was in second grade I had a house I could rattle around in
I could sulk like an angry ghost in a house built in 1867

I would wander around in the forest with two boys
I convinced them we should break into old houses
and our neighbors sheds

We created a world of green and vine and stumps
For Christmas one year we decorated a tree

We were the little ones who never wanted to go home
We called ourselves Peter Pan
Because we were never growing up

That was all before I moved
And the last day with them they crowned me Queen

I would climb on the roof at night
and feel the warmth of the sun still lingering there
and that was back when I was scared of what was in my closet

but since then I’ve befriended it

Ill feed you honey off of a teaspoon in the morning
And I’ll cover up all the reflective surfaces and
hold you in the bathtub till about 2 pm

I’ll rub shampoo through your black hair until the water turns cold

We will read poetry under that big shady tree down the road
and chase each other in the maze at the library
but I’ll always let you catch me

You’ll eat out of my hands like a broken baby animal
on the back porch wrapped in an afghan
the colour of your eyes on a rainy day

We will turn on the lamps at night and count our freckles
while we are wrapped in the sheets

And if you still hate yourself after that
We will wash rinse and repeat
until you can look into the mirror and

see what I see

I love the night sky
but it makes me feel
so small.
To look up
and see the vast darkness,
so massive and beautiful.
To see the glimmering stars,
and wonder what it would be like
to be up in space.
Its overwhelming to think
that there are over 500 billion galaxies.
I'm only one person.
One small human,
on a tiny planet.
The whole world is moving,
and I'm just standing still.