I really want to know,
What separates the next Edgar Allen Poe
from the average adolescent
in front of the liquor store?

So heavy
so light

Its beak cuts through resistance
it makes you question physics
the butterflies in my stomach
are now flying with me.

My next goal is the moon,
but
Some ants in the ground
will never see this view.

As the sun rises, so does my curiosity
I live in a world of complexity
With each free second my mind races with questions I cannot yet answer
With each unanswered question, the monster festers within me, itching for certainty in an ever changing world:
He spits

What can you do to leave here better than you found it?
What if you aren't cut out for college?
What if you aren't smart enough?
What if What if What if
What is your purpose?
What does the future hold for you?
When will you be enough?
When did you stop being enough?
When will you give up?
What's keeping you here?
Why are you sad?
Why isn't anyone else sad?
Why aren't you like everyone else?
Why Why Why

Some days I fill each second
muffling the monster
Some nights I pray the sun won't rise

Your way too skinny
skinny jeans and converse
walked
into the band hall
holding that shiny sax
and from that moment,
I knew it was all over.

The whole world stopped
when you took your first
breath.

as I was reaching for the doorknob
i saw my arm on the ground
and mistook it for two cats
because the light inside was shining through a window pane
and the cleft face
of my split shadow
lay bleeding like
two cats
on the sidewalk
suspended in the moment I took
to grieve for them.

and then I opened the door.