their
nest
filled
with
blue robin eggs
the
early morning
scent of april
the
signs of spring

It’s like no matter what I do my thoughts always come back to haunt me and I mean I don’t mind the company but please quiet the **** down. I can’t see clearly and I feel my body shaking. Just leave me alone. I’d rather be lonely than dead.

The house burned down and I lacked the curiosity for the world outside of those walls,
now ground
up and spit out.

It's not like it matters to me; it matters to no one.

So I keep dreaming,
only in your bed or nothing
I cannot think without you.
I can only write without you.

Keep dreaming, only in your bed
Or nothing. Or nothing, flooding over the rim of the cup,
is everything—it used to be. Now
memory squeezed me dry and left the pulp

I'm light when I smile
I'm strength when I walk
I'm joy when I talk
But I'm made out of glass

A pebble's a boulder
A breeze is a cyclone
A trip is a quake
I'm made out of glass

I'm tippin and toein
And nobody's knowing
I struggle to show it
I'm made out of glass

What else can I say but a chest feels heavy with every moment
When you forget to understand fully
Memory is just time—and then time
Identifies us. Just sever the head and forget the rest.
Red. Red worry rests on a blue
Heart. It rests on the chest and it
hurts to breath.

I’m dying, now. Right now.
And it seems fruitless to worry about inevitable things but
heart throbbing head pounding twisting dance two left feet
             (on the brain) (on the brain) (on the brain) (on the brain)
       anxious sleeping on the brain silently on the brain

What's the difference between
Silent terrors? Stalking
In day bloom in life’s bloom
And the miserable future,
The hopeless past, full

Chest
Tightening
Breathlessness