love is
the friendly Atlantic ocean
a lotion that never fully rubs in
humid air

love permeates
like a leaky roof
honey on toast
dandelions

cold, blue skies
with crisp air
and sun in my eyes
breathing deeply amongst the crowd
and I feel like an installation
in a hotel lobby
or a decorative vase
with dry arrangements
I feel so mad
the empty yet amused eyes
peering beyond me
while I'm duct-taped to this pedestal
while I'm nailed into a wall
while I'm the frame of a painting.

I'm working through stuff.
It feels like untangling a necklace
after finding it in the dryer.

I keep writing about
working through stuff
without sorting much out.

Maybe I'm just playing with the stuff.
It's best to have a lighthearted dialogue
With your shadow.

This is all normal
Petting dogs and
Nodding at strangers
Holding the door open
Sometimes it makes me
Go underwater and cry
Where my tears blend in with
Everything
Sometimes I wonder why I’m
Wondering why
We want joy
I sit so naturally perched on
A tall naked tree branch
That’s in a grey sky
With a vague horizon
And quiet brisk air

When I am fond of someone,
I've always hidden.
Locking eyes with someone I'm so curious about
just has this feeling that makes me want to hide.
I've always hidden.
Behind mom's leg,
behind my locker,
in the details of my lunch,
in my comforter,
in my headphones,
in my fantasies.

shame shares a tight border with shyness
both remind me of being a skittish mutt

I keep hearing that
in order to exist properly
amongst your peers
you need a strong sense of self.
I think that
the stains on my shirt
melancholic playlist in my ears
grumbling tummy
and agitation with self help websites
might be as good as it gets for my 20's.

and I'm tired of trying to be perfectly healthy all the time.
and I think capacity for constant self awareness is a privilege.