i want you to know
sometimes
i get scared of me too
i don’t know why
but to talk about it,
makes me want
to ask my father
to come pick me up

no amount of wonder
is ever wasted on you
you’re made of stardust
magic, a periwinkle blue
no worries, no scary
monsters in the night
could frighten you
the horrors persist
and baby, so do you
your heart is strong
your lungs capable
your feet will take you
wherever you want to go
the distance between
now and whenever
is whatever you want it to be

it’s better to let the air out
than burying it deep
when is the last time you breathed
without your lungs caving in?
i heard you can bleed out poison
from a snake bite, from a person
i’ll help you out as i am curious too
but promise me first you’ll tell me
if i’m pressing too hard where you hurt

it’s a modern love song
and it goes like this:
party heels, glitter on the floor
your best friend’s second cousin
is passed out in the couch
someone ordered fast food
someone is crying in the bathroom
i think i saw a high school classmate
kiss my college friend before puking
leftover beer pong, the ice has melted
and made a puddle on the floor
i look for you in all this mess
mascara running on my face
soon everything is blurry
but one thing is crystal clear:
you somehow find me first
and haul my drunken self home

do you think of marriage?
they say its an inevitable end
silver rings, golden bells
i hate the thought
but my emotional drought ends
and i am thirsty
and suddenly i am
thinking of marriage
half of mine, half of yours
how romantic, don’t you agree?
ours will be poetry softly spoken
to the ear of the Almighty
lovestruck, high maintenance
i have every reason to believe
you are heaven sent to me
if you want marriage, like i do,
you’ll need to scream my name
from the highest mountain
when the orange moon is at its peak
then i will come to you,
despite rainstorms, despite faults
how romantic, don’t you agree?

i want money to eat
money i can gorge on
money i’d have to puke
cause too much money
sit in my throat
**** being a poet
i want money so *****
i’d be a minor crime lord
or a senator
or a contractor
i want money so much
i think about it all the time
is it borderline avarice
to think of money all the time?
i want money as a lubricant
to make it easy to get out
slick me up, like a porcelain doll
yeah, just enough money
to get me out
the funny thing is,
if i was told every letter
every line i ever wrote
could be converted into
cold, hard cash?
**** it,
i wouldn’t take it
i couldn’t take it
**** my life, i guess

a second lily has decided to bloom
its petals remind me of waiting

my hydrangeas are slowly wilting
the ends a murky brown

i have left the day spill into
a restless night, of mourning

there is much left to do
too much to do, too much growing