And so I rest

as if every dream that has been




never was to begin with

sometimes silence is that friend you haven't seen in a long time, who you need to work past that awkward, "who are we together," stage again.

there are some days when it's the headache and you, not you and the headache.

just pound after pound, the core of your brain. the beat you never intended to dance to. and look at us, puppets.

like a ball on a string, our heads rattling around, unaware that heads don't rattle.

trying to push away the push of pain through pills that we pop to pop this pressure point.

but figuring out where to place the pin is the pause.

you don't want to make it worse, but if you can't make it better, best to just...not.

how do normal people function? what is this magical nirvana of blissful calm state? how does one close their eyes and sleep?

when headache likes to play, you can only hope they don't pull the string too hard.

Far from home but never far

Discipline is not taught in a day

Will the fog clear today

Like clockwork
11am
and my eyes open

the same blurry thought makes its way to the surface

will it be today

will the dull dissipate
the confusion clear

this edge of uncertainty
uncertain about possibilities
that might not be possible

this worry

I cannot explain it but my father says I
worry too much

Too much or too little

Too much
too much
too much

dense whispers
in the light of the shadow

but what exactly to see

11am
Will the fog clear today

You've got mail

Is it weird that I want to hear that again

Not
you have a notification

but mail

Waking up and running to the mailbox
heart pounding with excitement and fear

is your letter here yet


That one thought
everyday
carrying my little legs
racing
in the hopes that I would see your handwriting

and when that letter finally came

like a squirrel with a prized nut
I race away to the safety of my bed with
a flashlight
some poptarts

and pages of your letter

So happy



that I have a friend like you.