It’s shattering,
the splintering Crunch
of greasy potato chips
between my greedy molars:
chips that taste like stale smoke
and the salty yellow Crunch
of the Mylar bag
that holds them closer
than a health-crazed mother holds her child.

It’s drowning my senses out,
the accountant-firm Crunch
of black coffee characters
beneath my crippled fingertips:
keystrokes that sigh like short fuses
and the riffled paper Crunch
of the overpriced notebook
that was sold to protect
them against non-quantum uncertainties.

It’s pointless,
the mortar and pestle Crunch
of sundried willpower
before my monolithic day-planner:
obligations that loom like thunderclouds
and the omni-present Crunch
of the rigid ticking deadline,
that has concocted its scheme
to unravel my pleasant net of silky procrastination.

my Bad Days come in capital letters
starting with mornings overslept
and greasy, greasy hair
red lights glaring through the fog

and punctuated by sneaking feelings
creeping through damp underbrush
peering out and launching onto ankles

self-doubt. anxiety. fear.
two a.m. feelings striking at a quarter to nine in the morning.
i am having an existential crisis in math class.
blue marker on white board and all i can think about is
why was i put on this great green world

  and how
there are tiny organisms that could fit in my eye
and we don't know what the bottom of the sea looks like
and the first person i ever loved was a capricorn

in the morning i stumble out of gray sheets
crawl along cold tile and count four little orange pills
so that today maybe today
i won't wonder why i was made a person and not a river

some days i wake up
and the sky is tinged with blue and pink
my heart makes sounds of sweet muses

those days are not good
they are average

but i do not feel average
i feel good.

friday night and i'm drowning
sweating and struggling to find the right air for my lungs
you look straight through me

and i feel like calypso
but you pulled at me with blue-veined hands
through white sand and concrete
and this is where i leave you
lips bleeding, your only loyalty to blue velvet sky

we outgrew the fort where we played lovers
still sitting inside, our heads bumping against the ceiling
plates and forks too small
and every time the clock ticks to five i think of you
striding through that door like a giant in a house of fine things

once we thought we wanted to be the greatest
and then we settled for something a few stories down
stopped wishing for skating across wood floors in socks
stopped planting lace for flowers and a sunday preacher
instead we settled for cold dinners and dead peonies in teacups

clutching pillow, laughing
turn the sound off and it looks like i'm screaming
and you're screaming too but for completely different reasons
by lamplight on creaky bed frame with a lone car zooming into the skylight

you were my moon&sun;&stars;
and for you i was the person who knew how to put your stars into constellations
i was a drowning mermaid
something seeming impossible but dangerously real at dawn's light
hands poking through teal-grey surf, clawing clawing

you stepped back and looked down, horrified and delighted
and i stopped being a mermaid and became a gold necklace
a hand adjusting that gold necklace, cool to touch on the nape
with my art school hair and sideways monday never smile

i fought through hell for you
i went through screaming at the top of my lungs
and came out on the other side, trailed by hideous, dark things

i sat on the sand
looking at the gold in my hand and thinking about how it looked bigger the last time i saw it

tonight i died
yesterday is a pebble crushed under my heel
but in time i will rise and fly backwards
swallowing deadly creatures whole, olive eyed and free
drinking rose petals and milk and bursting through brick

ashes become wind and wind blows through hollow tree
i will love again
but this time it will be me

when the trees call staring down
       ask me what reason I am
walking alone among the pine cones
         dead brown
oak leaves laid about
          barefoot walk a path
that no one ever takes
          I go on walking listening
to them the trees
          they are older and strong
stronger than the asphalt
            where I have to shoe myself
to walk on
            going and listening
to nothing but cars
          loud shrieking brakes
and crashing
         I answer by walking right up to that tree
and kissing her or him
      hard to tell with a tree
right on its bark,
          sit near her or him and whisper
back,
          my reason should be clear
to one older and stronger.