i always forget that
the people that artists
sing and write about
are real

they ordered coffee next to me
they sold you your favorite book
they smiled at you in passing
they handed you a coupon on the street
they stood next to you in an elevator

they are real

i want to be the person you
write about
the person who becomes my next
favourite character
or subject in a song

i want to be special enough that
maybe one day
someone will care enough about me
to make me last forever
in their art

i wish that the flowers would
grow out of my head instead
of the straw colored hair that
occupies its current space
on top of my head

you see

i am not beautiful but
the flowers
are

they would call me floral
and i would sing
and cry

i would be so happy if
the flowers grew on top
of my head

i would fertilize instead of
lathering
and
rinsing
and
repeating

i wish that
every flower that
has ever existed
would
grow on top of
my boring
head

i took a trip up the coast with
the greatest people i know
we laughed and sang
swam and hiked

i hadn't felt that happy since
the day you told me you loved me

its amazing what a swim
can do for the soul and body
it felt like a dream
the green water
alage below
pebbles between toes

it was a dream
these people i love are
like the characters in a story
vibrant and full of life
i feel like I'm on the sidelines of
the greatest story ever told

san carpoforo changed my mind
and changed the way I thought about life
and all the people i know and love
all the people who have made me
who i am today

drive up the coast with
the best people you know
i promise that you won't be the same when
you drive back down

i bought a cactus
the summer of my
eighteenth birthday

i picked it up from
the local nursery and
cradled it all the way to
my car so that it wouldn't
fall to the concrete

i had only just met the little guy
and i didn't want to lose him the
day i finally got him

it is quite stupid to buy and
name a cactus but
i felt very attached to the small
succulent that occupied the
left corner of my bedside table

it was a cute little cactus with
orange on his top and a long
green stalk with spikes poking out

i felt pretty satisfied because
even looking at this plant
made me smile

taking care of this cactus
gave me something to do
and it kept my mind off of you
for a while

maybe i connected with this plant

maybe i felt like i was the plant

i sure do feel like the plant

trapped

growing

pokey

all adjectives aside i still
am very much addicted to
caring for my little cactus

if it lasts through the summer
then maybe
i can too

to be in love
is to love a man
who lived in the past

he is on the far right in
that photo of your grandfather and
his platoon from
the vietnam war

he is a stranger to you yet
he is strong
worldly
a hero

he is dead

but you are in love

to be in love
is to love a man you
have made up in your head
to be more to you
than they truly are

i think of you daily but
the problem is
you are not real

you are real in the sense that
i and others can see you
but
you do not exist

"you" is something
you created so that
the person inside could
hide away from people
who promised them in
the middle of the night that
they did in fact
love
"you"

"i am not real" you said

now i realize

of course not
how could you be

i do not think
that flowers grow to
be picked and gawked at by
every human that thinks
they are the most beautiful thing
they have ever seen

i do not think
that people grow to
be judged and scolded by
every human that thinks
they are the most pathetic thing
they have ever seen

we aren't different from
the flowers we pick

we are the same as the flowers

which makes me question why
we are the ones who aren't allowed to change
and
grow