In your room
my lipstick stained coffee mug sits smugly on your desk
you tell me not to bring my cups up to your room after the time my unfinished coffee found its way through your bedsheets.
I sneak looks at you from the corner of my eye.
you pretend not to notice.
Littered around your laundry basket are my lacey bras and patterned underwear
I know you’ve always been neat and I’ve scattered your living space with my messy habits
and maybe you mind, but you’ve never given me a hard time for it.
my mom never made me fold my clothes, but i fold all yours.
An empty box of wheat thins stands straight up aside the trash bin
you can never make them last more than one night
and I still don’t understand their appeal
but i buy them over and over
you never forget to recycle.
Multiple journals of mine clutter your desk drawers
you ask to read what i write, eyes kind and curious
I don’t let you, but for different reasons than you think
I write my poems onto papers the size of a dog-eared page,
hide them in the pockets of your jackets
it ‘s summer. you don’t find them.
We're meant to breathe like trees and leaves,
and grow so much we stretch at the seams.
when the forest you've learned closes its eyes,
the moon says hello and bids the sun goodbye.
busy humans, noisy humans,
The Ground Is Lava, the ice caps are melting,
This flow is unsteady, this weather is sweltering.
Look at your hands, your twenty-thirty-something hands,
and stretch the body as you would rubber bands.
Emotions are riddled with molecules that collide,
Hence why it's best to leave at the sight of high tide.
How many fucks would an apathetic human give
if they knew they had eight months to live?
Save the date, your day will come;
at any rate, time's on the run.
This is your unfolding,
this is your unfolding.
There is a feeling in the center of my gut that creeps up when I think of impermanence
When I think of the billions of other galaxies in this incomprehensively vast Universe
and how important yet insignificant Earth is
When I think of the countless memories that will be left for no one to remember
When I think of the countless efforts made by billions of souls
and how one day it will be all for naught
I imagine bombs and earthquakes of such great magnitude that masses are divided and we inevitably fall head first into the abyss,
the crushing darkness engulfing all that is, was, and inhibiting what could ever be.
I imagine sitting cross-legged on the moon and gazing at my home planet objectively
when suddenly a catastrophic explosion erupts and pieces of Earth and debris fling throughout space in every direction.
I imagine how every single argument will suddenly seem never more pointless
how the most important moments to me were the ones when I could hardly breathe due to the excitement of consciously living,
when time moved so slowly my fingers didn't age,
my heart grew softer,
my breathing became slower...
When I think of how far we've come as a collective People
and how much damage we've done with our same hands
I realize that we are human.
We are the reason for our own demise.
And with these words,
and with these atrocities,
we can learn to do better in our final days.
Very few know the way
But the ones who do
are the believers,
the day and night dreamers,
the hold-your-breath, I'm-leaving-leavers.
Heads snap up and unfamiliar eyes meet mine,
I don't know anyone here but I'm feeling just fine.
Giddiness has replaced irritability,
Readiness has replaced instability.
Certainty has replaced the doubt in my mind,
The room is spinning but I'm feeling just fine.
The Earth is turning and I'm feeling sublime.
here, in the crisp July morning before the day warms
the light is still yellow
dew is still present
the grass is so green
and I've fallen in love with 8 am
there is a brisk wind that is passing through me but I'm not cold
clovers, evergreen, and dewy mornings are on my mind
Today, I will aid my brain in not succumbing to depression
Today, sunlight soothes my entire being
Everything is still
Everything is calm
I am content