Today, I reminded you
that this house will never...
This won't be praising
the planet for existing...
I tried all the sweetest things,
gardenias bloomed from...
I play "Gymnopédie No. 1" to a home
busy with ghosts and painted apathy...
This is not a dystopia
or some cataclysmic dream...
I wake up past noon,
limbs anchored to...
Trauma lives in this body;
it builds a nest with handcrafted...
I don't know how many shots of vodka
I've had, definitely more than two, clear liquid...
we can only live for so long
on a scorched planet...
The autumn sun touched the
nape of my neck, today...
grief is a rusted faucet
i keep checking...
I am becoming more bold,
even if I'm the only one to notice...