mother's flats again, a size too small
breathing
the old, empty box of hair dye by the sink looks nothing like me
my hands leaning against the counter, another prayer
feeling my breath, a slow exhale
air
a vacancy, though a victory
counting
the contrast of a dimly lit kitchen and a shy, partly cloudy morning
i looked once more at the eviction
counting crosses on the walls
the toy beetle poking its wheels out of the small closet
darkness in the hall
gave one last costly smile before letting them sleep
it was all that i could do

There is a garden here inside of my head, my flowers wilting away

There is a killer with a gun to my back, I'm gonna do what he says

hallway of spiders, garden of smoke

"come inside, don't be shy", she said
so i dropped to my knees and i dug with my fingers
the soil, falling over my head
coating my skin
mud from my mouth
deeper within
cover the surface, "believe, believe in me" i said

hallway of spiders, houses of dirt

in this life, there is nothing but this empty chairs, and empty faces
i'm in the lost and found
tell me you'll be around
your new friend
who never makes a sound
and i am well
and i am found
it's so profound

you ask me if i'm certain
you tell me the difference
but i tell you all feel is in love