oh and how fleeting this little life can be
i try to hold onto each moment before it becomes a memory
how do we survive each goodbye without unzipping our skin,
stepping out of it and screaming:
COME ON. GET IN.
how do we say i love you without making it sound like
an apology
for every tiny exhale that sounds like a discrepancy
between you and yourself and that voice in your head
you know three is a crowd you know you’re not
better off dead
now somehow it’s February and I am waking up to the rain
whose song is a house that lives in and out of my veins
there have been people i have loved while some adored from afar
i don’t see them anymore but they know who they are
i received a letter from my mother today in the mail
she’s trying to become yet terrified to fail
i tell her she’s allowed to have a thousand breakdowns a day
i tell her she’s a miracle simply because she decided to stay
i’ll never know how we manage to survive each other’s love
it’s too small to hold onto and too big to conceive of
and yet there will be heartbreak, great loss and despair
i am going to keep listening to the sound of what’s there
as for time, well he knows he is a great thief
i made love to him on the nights i was devoured by grief
and sometimes i wish i could go back to my old self and say
that she didn’t have to shatter, that things would be okay
it can never be for sure that all things have a purpose
i try to believe in a God without getting nervous
the universe is holding us in the palm of her hand
just know that you are loved,
you don’t have to understand.

The tangerine stained race track
spread across our **** carpet, a turn
by the wooden bed frame, a loop
near the five piece drum set.
My brother’s fingertips gripped a Hot Wheel
by its rear end, its rubber wheels
greeting the track, propelling it forward,
launching it into another plastic vehicle,
and Crash.

I nursed the toy cars through emergencies,
playing doctor to replace cracked windshields
and torn plastic bumpers, victims
of one too many collisions. It alarmed me
how easily the 1976 Mustang could lose its wheel,
sending it spinning like a dreidel while my brother grinned
with splintered teeth, feeling nothing.
The car survived the impact, but people
don’t always walk away from accidents. They can’t be raised
on jack stands and tinkered with. The operation table,
home to drivers with fluttering heartbeats,
can hum to the deafening beat of a flat-line monitor.

The more you get to know someone
The more you realize
That you never really knew them
In the first place
What does it matter
If you can see their face
That doesn’t hold much meaning
When it comes to friendship
What significance does a picture hold
When you can’t even watch
That person’s life unfold
What does it matter
If you can say a bunch of words
That doesn’t mean much
If their voice is unheard
Friendship is about being there
Being there in the flesh
Getting to hang out
And see if your personalities mesh
Distance separates many people
Yet a real relationship
Can still be formed
But only if
The right precautions are met
They talk throughout the day
They’re honest and truthful
About everything, in every way
They talk on the phone
Comforting the longing
Making it feel like home
Real friends are real people
It takes real work and effort
To create something that isn’t feeble
From now on
I’m only interested
In focusing on the relationships
That I know can withstand
A lifetime

I'm wearing my  yukata under the zealous stars
Thinking about you
With an aching heart

For this forever luminescent moon
I shall sing
And dance

For all that life stands for
Under these stars
That scream my name

I'm wearing my yukata under the zealous stars

I
                                                               ­                                                               lo­ve
                                                                ­                                                                 ­               you
              
                               ­                                                                 ­       to
                                                              ­          the
                                                                ­                         horizon


                             where
                                                           the
         sun
                                               kisses
                    the
                                  ­                           sea,


                                                          ­                                               and
                                                                ­                           the
                                                             ­                                                 sky


          ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­           fills
                                                           ­                                                                 ­           the
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                               creases

                                         ­                                                                 ­    where
                                                       ­                                  I
                                                               ­                                         fail
                   ­                                                              to
                                                              ­                                             fit
                                                             ­                           with  
                               ­                                  your
                                                                ­                     consistencies.

Things come from all things
Matter cannot be created
It can't be destroyed
But like all things,
Everything comes from something
Like thoughts from brains
Brains from bodies
Bodies from a woman
Put in that state from ***
*** from love (hopefully)
Love from interaction
Interaction from thought.
So the physicists and scientists
Might be right
But it's not true that all matter
Cannot be destroyed
Someone created a body
But that, I have too often seen,
Is destroyed
Because of thoughts
Or maybe love
Could be interaction or brains
But at least some matter
Can be
Has been
Destroyed.