I'm fine"
The response,
a sconce.

People echo this to escape the outcry.
The cry they hold on to tightly behind that damaged brick wall
they use to stall.

Only the holder knows the deceive,
while people around them believe.

I'm not fine; I’m hanging by a thread, so thin,
With the weight of the world pressing down from within.
This fragile line frays, I can feel it unwind,
While tangled webs clutter the depths of my mind.

Empty yet twisted, so fragile, so tight,
In a space that feels hollow, with barely a light.

"Will I ever break free? Will I make it alive?"
These questions keep echoing, trapped in my mind.
Instead of a rise, I'm caught in a dive,
Descending a staircase, steep and unkind.
"Am I fine?"

We felt like he needed to run our country.
But we were wrong.
My closest friends,
My family,
Had to run away,
Because of
The Orange Man.
And here i sit,
Watching my country burn,
Because of
The Orange Man.
He's going to ruin us all.

By tomorrow,
He'll sit in his throne,
Ruling with an iron fist,
Smiling an Orange grin,
The Orange Man,
The Orange Man.
He's going to ruin us all.

I brought my favourite drink.
One you once told me not to.

You were just a stranger then.
Not even one of my closest friends.

It's funny how the fizz.
Reminded me of you.

Then again you told me,
Lots of things.
That became untrue.

You shook me up.
So good.

So much so.
I wish I could forget.
The way you taste.

Instead I'll ***** the cap back on.
To stop the fizzing and frothing.

Bottle you up.
With my sinking emotions.
So that you drowned the way.
I did.

When you first kissed my lips.

Listening to love songs feels okay these days
No wistful wondering what went wrong
No hangover from waiting to move on

Long gone are the broken memories
of first kisses and that very last fight
Rings on the kitchen table, boxes by the door, suitcases and all

Dust gathers on the photo albums
The love notes faded and folded away
but the words still remain
Etched into jewellery with all the dates

Somehow it feels ok
Learning to let go
Learning to live in a whole new headspace

I have packed my things

and I am very surprised --


that they are so few.

I've lived somewhere over 50 homes by now.

The ones that stick out?

In Portland I rented a micro-studio. My first apartment I signed a lease on by myself. It had no in-unit kitchens: there was a communal kitchen on floor one. Bed came out the wall. best description: trendy, affluent, hipsters who want to live communally in theory, but eat out every day instead. Communal kitchen was empty. No one was ever home. We all went to the food carts across the street, later replaced by a hotel.

in Florida we had a pool (even the poor have pools in Florida) and the neighborhood ice cream truck sold drugs. That’s not important. It was the pool! I lived like a mermaid and it was the same pool I had my first kiss next to.

In Wisconsin we lived above a bead shop that turned into a dress shop that rented out prom dresses to the town. I watched the cozy middle-class flock to the shops beneath me. For being a town of 1,000 we had the coolest apartment since I could spy on the whole town and their frequent trips to the bakery.

In North Carolina we lived in a neighborhood called 'beverly hills' in Asheville - the house was interesting, not very bourgeois as the neighborhood title suggested. I wanted to turn the basement into a gaming center for kids. I spent a few days sweeping the spiders away and saved all of my summer allowance to buy Rock Band. We moved before I had anyone over.

My favorite house will always be my grandmother’s - somewhere in the middle of 20 acres in Eastern Oregon is my own version of an oasis. It is dry land, full of tumbleweeds and prone to wildfires, but something about the smoke stained carpets and 24/7 television noise feels most like home.

Why ain't I able to move on from you and your memories, Why you always makes me yours through my dreams, Just wish me once, to be like you, and then perhaps I'll lead an ecstatic life like you.

milk jade spiders
stowaways   from our past home
a pout of breeding pouch
appears
our new home   is similarly blessed