May 2014
Sometimes I get so empty
I think I'm floating
I'm so light,
I think, perhaps,
the feathers will love me.
I am not okay
but I will be okay.
I'll try not to stick my head in the oven
and close the door.
I will be okay,
without you.
Just wait a little, would you,
darling?
You cannot fix me.
You cannot fix me.
I think I'm floating
I'm so light,
I think, perhaps,
the feathers will love me.
I am not okay
but I will be okay.
I'll try not to stick my head in the oven
and close the door.
I will be okay,
without you.
Just wait a little, would you,
darling?
You cannot fix me.
You cannot fix me.
The real question is: when do I ever write poems that aren't about falling?
