If you're gonna love me
you gotta love all of me
and if you're gonna leave me
you gotta leave all of me
right there I coulda sworn
I saw you fly out the window
over the balustrade, your feathers
left all over the couch
takes a dream to stream all the rivers
of bad luck and the grief
stretching our limbs out in the water
but i can't for the life of me
these greenstick, grief stricken lies
keep me awake for night
that you somehow had the brief
patience to handle a fraction
of me and I don't blame you at all

In the night I see nothing
but stars falling
in the day I’d let you know
my secrets but you’d cut
my guts open and laugh
so I sit still at the table
and watch the bumblebees
make their fuzz-buzz
hide their small heads
in leaf shelter...
how ironic, I think
to myself.

I thought I could cross
this cracked expansion
and I’m sick and tired
of hiding all of me from you~

or so that song goes
listening to AFI on a walk
I keep crawling back
to catch your shadow
gangling at the window
your black face
and nose of pink
all awkward and scrunched
yet as I approached
you rub against my leg
and stretch in ecstasy
dry wild grass or powdered snow
shadowed forever
in my memory

I thought I could cross
this cracked expansion
and I’m sick and tired
of hiding all of me from you~

or so that song goes
listening to AFI on a walk
I keep crawling back
to catch your shadow
gangling at the window
your black face
and nose of pink
all awkward and scrunched
yet as I approached
you rub against my leg
and stretch in ecstasy
dry wild grass or powdered snow
shadowed forever
in my memory

I am not a child

all the cars slow
to a rolling stop

where I lay,
fine-combing the dirt with my lashes

I've done it again

erected the edifice of my life
on the air from her lips

and when her gusts are wild,
I wish I was never born

but I am not a child

wheels appulse on the tar
inches from my tender head

I don't want to go home

I don't

they're drowning out the haters
with kazoos, the crazy *******
honestly i'll join them
but my throat's too clogged anyways
foolish rim of the country
backwards and fragile religion
hate seems to be the zeitgeist of our time
where trysts and labors of spring
are swept in dusk blues and pure greens
another simple transitive jewel
of the moment