what exactly is wrong with internet poestry, instagram haikus, and the words that reach me while I type om my phone. typos included as my fingers speed across the screen. trying to squeeze my thoughts through my thumbs. projecting my vision back onto the lightbox. light speaking to light. can you hear me? you tiny reflection be better than me. something, has to be better than me.

Pure?
To when you were nothing?
To when you were a single cell?
Because I can feel every cell dividing, and God ****** it stings.
It stings
every part of me.

Suspended in silk and raised on nectar
is it so much better because I made it?
Because i make a lot of things
including cancer
But what I say goes because
I can say it
So I say
God says
I am important

This dark roast isn't as dark as I
Remember
I suppose I have found darker things since
Then

When do wishes become weeds?
When the roots are rotten.

Your skin has holes in it
to breathe
So really they can't help that they get in,
they can't help that they get in
Your skin has holes in it to breathe
You picked at some and made them
bigger
They picked at some and made them bigger
and because life is how life is, Most of you
and most of them
learned that if you try to fix them you will
Suffocate

Soft grunts of morning love
Anchoring down the blankets
Rolling over begging you
Pet my belly