i don't think i have ever
let myself heal in between
storms, i have shacked up
with missing roofs and
bullet holes in the trim
the rain soaked carpets
a mere nuisance like
creaky doors--
but lord would I love
to pop the seams on
every shoddy job i've
done, lie all the materials
out on the floor and accept
the work, look at what a mess
I am, people can love messes
but for their sake, I would
like them to love
a little more so--


don't mind the holes,
the haphazard strings
and leaflets--I am still
learning and moving,
sewing, accepting,
working.