So often I am cast
as the convenience...
Do you still love me?
I’m asking for a friend...
How can I avoid you,
When I love talking to you...
I do not erupt at the slightest flame,
I watch in silence, remembering every name...
I am a squiggle of imperfection,
a reality that bites...
Life is like writting with a pencil
It takes time to learn how to control it...
i've been face down or more
for sore minutes...
why the magpie grooms its own feathers
until blood pocked skin shows...
You’ll look up
light blue quarter-zip making your eyes seem dark...