I only know what it means to miss someone; never have I known what it means to be missed.

When I uproot the hairs sprouting from the glabella
and strip my cupid’s bow of its wildflowers,
Frida Kahlo writhes in her grave.

She haunts me.

“You are beautiful.”
[unibrow and all]

“You are beautiful.”
[moustache and all]

“You are beautiful.”
[sadness and all]

If I’m the villain, then you’re
the origin story.

What do ya say, Kid?

Do you have another poem in you?

Watching the snow fall
Touching the pavement, pelting the wall,
Melts time and time again, and call and call

On windy hilltops soft in the flow
Brighter and brighter, the streetlamps glow,
The robin orange-red breast on show.

I’m too sad
to make my bed today

I’m not done hating you yet,
Darling.

I possess a
vile & extraordinary
mind

Break me

and

walk barefoot through the
shards.

Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Sane anymore.