Red castles crash and fall
Midst green pines standing tall

As the last summers memory outlasts
This autumn death befalls

No bound amount of times compress
Could pressurized this want in me

Leaving other lovers not by the wayside
But with a future of their own to be

Arise and fall, my beating chest
With a breath anew and deep words to breathe

Let me not invest in unstanding still
But in a redemptive song bursting forth, wild and free

Let me go, like letting the ribbon slip through your fingers, your eyes watching the balloon dance in the breeze before disappearing into the clouds.

Do you sleep on your back
with your heart to the
sky, and your face to the
sun?
Last night, I wondered
as the moon peeked through my window
and the night awoke,
I wondered with my heart to the
floor, and my
face pressed to the pillow.
When I was a baby,
my mother lied to the doctor:
"Yes, she's sleeping on her back,"
but I would only sleep on my stomach.
Still, I turned out fine,
right?
Sometimes I lay out on my back,
and I can see my heart beating
in my stomach,
through the fabric of my shirt,
but I can't sleep.
Is this what you feel like?
Can you watch your chest rise
and fall?
When you cry,
do your tears make two tracks
from your eyes to your ears?
Maybe you don't sleep on your back at all
maybe you turned out fine,
like me,
sleeping with your heart to the
floor, and your
face pressed to the pillow.
Maybe you don't watch your heart beating,
or your chest rise and fall,
maybe you don't cry —
but I'd like to think you do.