The things I’m naming:
ways to feel unsettled in transition,
states and the way the birds landed
on the trees outside my window.
all the while thinking people
should just understand,
like they had your history with them.

my mom once hung a “feelings’ chart
on my door
so I could circle the face that
most resembled mine. was it envy driving this
appetite? was I that difficult
to decipher? me,
always shaking in some corner
then blasting off,
dictating, taking,
moving everyone to room
to game.

I don’t talk much
actually sometimes I
let my mind molder
like an untended peach,
just growing brown and soft
and inedible,
unused, unexamined
any further.
put everything I own in trashbags
and toss it out.
I do this every year.

but in malice, the brambles
that i’m tied to,
dauntlessness prevails,
action, cardinal,
they always say i’m bitter.
I’m acidic quite actually.

give me coffee,
watch me run in circles,
flash my tongue.
what it’s like to rule like queen:
favors coming at you and people
trembling in their seats,
the gluttony, the theft,
the power
What do I want?
and at your leisure.

my leisure:
the growth between getting
and having,
the run, the game.
If there is truth that people never
change, I guess I am stuck somewhere
on a trail



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: