74

it's something about fault lines,

the way that they wring their veiny hands.

it's something like reminding yourself to lock all the doors behind

you, just because they're yours.

you can say hello to the people you meet. they can choose not to see

you, but believe me, I see you. in all the glory, loud and clear.

saturated and pink

and everything that rhymes.

I sure hope I'm doing this right.

gone is the only word I know of to describe my past.

I'm thankful to the people that've hurt me. I'm thankful for my skin

craddling my thankful bones. an elephant's tusk, smooth from the

memories and the weather. remember them all and they shape you, they

polish away the grit.

make you realize you should always do what you feel.

I want to put my arms out to dance, but that's an easy thing to want.

I want my mother to love me on normal days. even when I'm not sick,

but that's not mine to change. I want to be looked at even when I

don't fall, standing straight up, aware of my breath.

why do I say I love you to empty walls?
or to the hairs that fall out in the shower?

why do I find it so tragic that I made them but I'm not really sure how?

what do the muscles in your eyes think about the muscles in my eyes?

I'm curious.

I am weak from changes,

but the after all is, that I do love this world.