I have this list of things,
many ruinous, mundane things.

  -2 cokes,
  -1 bread,
  -existential dread

I write them as they come,
tapped into existence by my fingers,
in a rush.

  -People’s,
  -Places’,
  -Dog names

They bask in the otherness,
that brings them together.

  -Heartache,
  -numbers,
  -reminders

I feel protective of them,
the mishmash, ugly family of things.

  -Mom’s birthday
  -Father’s Day
  -“I want to go away.”

Because I made them, and they know me,
the real me.