I'm still thinking, I have never
stopped thinking, thoughts
are clustered in my brain.
I'd call myself fragile, but
everyone is.
no one is.

I'm soaking in words like bullets
that shattered the windows in
my paper house
because they did and it needed
to happen and I knew it.

When the walls were crashing down
and when my skin sizzled off
layers of colors
I found a circle.

And i cried and cried
and needed no reason why
and it felt so good to feel
something so familiar
because all of it's true,
anything you or me ever say
to each other is true,
the sadness and madness and
dark and light and joy and everything
inbetween rays of sunlight and blades
of grass
whether or not they thrive
or burn alive with horrible screams
like terrors from my dreams

And as for absolution
I care more about thanking
the sun for making the ocean warm.