at the very least
i am substance
and in trouble because of it
we are all together
and altogether solitary
i think it’s both hideous
and angelic,
the fact that we were all born
as shots in the dark
and we somehow manage to land
on the board.

my body is missing something
so i try to cover it in more fabric
bright colors and dark colors
skin tight or loose or covering no skin at all
but still my body is missing something
so i try to drink something
water or soda or juice or gin
i try wine so maybe my tongue will taste
as bitter as i feel
but still my body is missing something
so i scrub it
i place it under a steady stream of water
and i lather it in soap and i scrub away
until surely i must be brand new
but still my body is missing something
so i eat and devour
sweet and salty and bitter and comforting
and it sticks to the roof of my mouth
and i think maybe that’s what it was
but still my body is missing something
my body is craving something
i think it just wants
to be different.

i would like my body
if it were anyone else’s
it’s just that it follows me everywhere
if i could get five minutes alone
i think i could find it in me
to miss her.

this morning the sunlight was heavy
the air was like a blanket
and my brain told me to rise
but my eyes, they told me to rest
i did both
and thus, found a february peace
on the sidewalks.

she’s spilling over with sunshine
and i’m searching for songs
that are just gonna make me sadder

i’m really not good at existing
on sundays.

i make my bed in a garden
my friends are flowers and they’re blooming
and i’m still obsessed with decay
my body is not enough
how can i be the hero
when i’m living inside the villain?

as ruas do coração dela
estavam desertos
ela não tinha nada
para ajudar cidades
que ela não tinha visto

ela estava sozinha
mas as cidades,
eles chamaram
o nome dela.