twelve forty three a.m.

 

I want for nothing 

​

I am sustained on blueberries and

a rich fantasy life alone

 

worshipping fantasy because i

can’t think of anything more honest

 

gonna eat a whole carton of blueberries

 

i can’t remember the last time

you told me the truth

checking out

 

I was born in the hot tub

of a motel super 8

 

my destiny?

 

107 lashes and infinite wisdom

 

you can fill the void 

    with sour candy

 

you can play god 

    if you want

maybe you should try it

 

when I’m lonely I like to go all the way outside

to tell the moon good night 

 

I wake to spend another afternoon sifting

through cold coffee grounds with 

bare hands, thinking to myself, 

 

“when the air is no longer heavy on my skin,

I will miss it”

 

it’s okay to dream of something humble

lately

 

been working on my plant id

 

been learning to name 

my feelings as they come

 

been trying to write

fewer love poems

 

been fooling myself as if

 

every poem isn’t a love poem 

to somebody

 

today I am fragmented,

made up of white noise 

 

a little voice in my head says 

 

it’s okay to feel safe here