i write about what i know because ive got nothing better to say and i try to fit the length of a thought onto a single page because i just hate it when ive got an entire poem or whatever almost finished, only a few words left, and they just wont fit
and plus who am i to waste a slip of paper on a phrase or two that doesnt make sense alone and that (who am i kidding) no one is going to read anyway?
unless there is someone out there that has always wanted to know about what its like to watch a person
transform from water to ice crystals in a matter of minutes
or how it feels to hate your father and then weep at the thought and then hate yourself for weeping
to blindly step with bare feet on a baby bird and feel its naked skull crumble beneath your heel
to dance alone, throwing yourself into frenzied spirals, smashing against the walls and breaking apart like a tired old star to collapse then letting the light drain from you
letting the light drain from you and reaching up to touch it with quiet hands...