The fish are frozen in their mirror.
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to.
I dreamed them into the world.

Fridays were always fun.

Jack was always the bold one, but once you knew him, it wasn’t that bad. You be surprised, once he got going, he became the life of the party.

Jerry was sweet and got along with everyone, though if you cornered him, he has one hell-of-a-punch.

Tito was smooth too, and like Jerry, got along with everyone. But became a bit bitter later in life.

Jim, Jose and Bulleit—man those three guys always got into trouble. They were ok at first, but we had a falling out as they fought with themselves and everyone else. Probably for the best not to worry about them.

And Mary. I don’t know how to explain it. She had a certain allure, an air about her. She is sweet, good looking, and super funny. No matter who she is with she can have a good time, down to party whenever.  

I suppose we all have lives now.
Too responsible.
But we deserve to have a good time, right?
It is a Friday.
I’ll be honest out of everyone I’d contact, it would be Mary. Maybe Jack and Jerry, only if Mary said she was cool with them as well. Anyone else though and the good times will not roll.

At nineteen, I became a mother,
a title that shook the stars—
barely an adult, but now a world-builder,
my dreams reshaped by tiny hands.

We've cut the tree for warmth in winter's chill,
Only to lose its shade when summer's heat is still.
Cut only a branch, and let new life begin,
And you'll have fire and shade to cherish within.

i witnessed it traverse across and rip the sky open
in one big swoop

like my zipper when i
**** on the curb

careless

maybe if i cared less
it wouldn’t have affected me

this meteorite of reality

crushing all i have

i am nothing
for i am to them only
what i provide and prove
nothing more

give
give
give

silently stars cry
as we all enjoy and benefit
from the glimmer and light dance
as we all look away
while they dwarf into voids

there is a man
somewhere
in some corner of some bookstore
or bar or apartment building
filling his lungs and soul
with tar
while he wishes it was
the world
which he could watch
burn

instead of himself

and as he’s practically forced to pick a side
and pick another pick me girl
another job application
a college major
a plethora of healthy habits
yet still amongst so many
and so many choices
he sits alone

what brings despair is cheered upon
what he accomplishes is
stomped
like a bug
burned to dust
at mach speeds

the same curb he ****** on

graffiti on the wall behind it

it says
“live
love
laugh”

he
definitely
laughs

has he brought this
ying and yang of life
upon himself?

why does it all seem just bad
sometimes?

why is the joy and genuineness of people
so fleeting?

why is it ninety nine percent
utter *******
and the rest just
dark matter?

only sometimes
fluctuating into a
big bang
of the real
version of us

he tries to live
he tries to love

is there really a
*******
difference?

doesn’t one just **** you
quicker than the other?

or at least feels like it?

i’d rather laugh

i’ll just face the mirror
face them all
face all of it

and just
*******

laugh

it’s all
comedy
anyways

just let
me
****
and
laugh
in

peace
and

in
  pieces

now that
is what
i call
a genuine
choice

and i call it one
as i call my own
horrible hypocrisy

it’s the only

*******

  choice

left

my sister’s cat died in my arms.

my sister’s cat,
who she never fed.
who she never snuggled.
who she never loved.

my sister’s cat,
who i fed.
who i snuggled.
who i loved.

i didn’t cry.
i didn’t mourn her.

but my sister
she sobbed.
she grieved.

is this not the way of the caregiver?

caring until the time to care is over?

and leaving the owner to mourn?