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 May 2017 Xoi
white yarn.
 May 2017 Xoi
the next time you
go to the cabin
east of the fort
(my east, not your east)
(left, if facing the cabin)
look for the tree with the
white yarn wound
around the trunk with
a bunch of knots that
wouldn't hold,
where I
wished that no matter
what you
would be
here, that
i would last
past all my fears
and make it there again.
(c) Brooke Otto  2017

part 2.
 May 2017 Xoi
Driftwood smoke
 May 2017 Xoi
It is almost summer
and the hot night
seems so quiet
as the wind on the water
lifts the sails on that ship
sailing west like smoke
from the fire I lit
to burn the driftwood
of my dreams and desires
until morning comes like
that sad-eyed Moriah
I've admired from afar.
 May 2017 Xoi
Today I learned that I am worth at least $2.
I am worth not just a thought, but an action.
I am worth the walk to place it in my hands.
I have never felt more valuable then I do now.
Sipping a coffee I didn't know that I needed.
 Mar 2017 Xoi
are made up of pieces,
shaky legs and furrowed
eyebrows constant questions and
cutting off sentences we are existing
in every direction we are never quite
exactly one thing we are
everything all at once and we buzz
like a hive of nervous tics and anxious stutters
this energy cannot be created or destroyed
it is transferred from soft songs
to reminding GIRLS LIKE ME that you still
love us when our mouths cannot form words when
we are not entirely existing in the same place as you when
we get scared and write poetry about how GIRLS LIKE ME
fall in love with boys like you and we never really
tell them we wrap our hands around our own throats we
were never taught to be cruel, we were never taught to
be kind we are exactly everything and always nothing and we
never know what to say so we fall in love with boys like you and
we wait and wait and wait and cannot be created or destroyed
 Mar 2017 Xoi
Journey of Days
meditate - ink -  pray
keeps me from
drink - cry - coma

think - draw - breathe
helps with
process - know - conquer

punch  - walk - yell
guards me from
fear - hate - intemperance

write - write - write
saves me from

my version of eat - pray - love
ceilings, automatic doors. tread carefully the red carpet.
watch.                                                the landscapes quietly.


building where I lost myself, found one    worn stair,

walled words                                                  on bravery.

we laughed at his phone         vibrating the glass table,

automatically.                           there are no  heros here.

just quiet and responsibility.

books bound in leather.

 Feb 2017 Xoi
Christina Gotsina
Look at me
I'm here
Like a snowflake
Passing you by
Like a teardrop
In your eye

Look at me
I'm here
A speck of dust
Floating in mid air
A small fly
Tangled in your hair

Look at me
I'm here
Before your eyes
I won’t be shown
And just like that
You'll be alone
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