There are often too many things to say and not enough people to say them to.
My ears feel as if they are full to the brim with wax,
but the rest of me is empty.
I was trying to be alone—you touched my stomach
it’s surprising when things don’t scare me.

Stop apologizing for making me feel alive again
I should be sorry for talking so incessantly;
(I shouldn’t have bored you)
it just feels good to say something now and then
Your eyes are so soft,
you are soft
when your lips stretch into a grin.

There are bees and they’re buzzing—
the air feels sweeter
and I’m sorry if I stared, but my eyes couldn’t move.
I was thinking about what you said.
time moves more slowly when you feel alone and
crying is more difficult when you force yourself to do it
(so just stop thinking about “me”)
(it’s only going to help)