Screamed Seven

7, finally stumbling across
the right words to scream outloud
but coming out in waves of
fake emotions
coming across with little to no sense

I waited so long to cry out into the palms of
my mother’s ears
when I could have said what needed to be yelled
across the fires of the pews

But I couldn’t find the right way to
crawl into the arms of the devil’s skin
that night
when I realized
he fucked me over
with open wings
and closed eyelids

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Look

Are you sure you even know who I am anymore?
You used to tell me to grow the
fuck up and look at myself

Are you sure you’re fine now?
Without me, you’re fine, you’re okay
and so am I

he mountains have shrunk within the shoulders of the moon, but I’ve been watching her eyes flicker back and forth like a broken wire, looking for revenge in the lightning

Busy Wings

I watched as a man stood near me, talking to a bee, trying to let it wash itself before he captured it to let it outside

In thise few moments, I thought about all of those times I failed to let insects be themselves, they are hust babies trying to navigate the world just as we are

We can learn so much about the world through all of the crawling and flapping of the wings, if we just paid nore attention

Writings From The Cafe

Q-Tip Ideas

I used to clean my ears so much
and I didn’t understand why until today

I was trying to push the voice that told me that I was better off falling in my own, through to the other side

I’d wet the end of a q-tip, hoping the water would drown out my thoughts, instead it made them float

Rocking

I’m being rocked back and forth like the cradle we were all warning children about

But instead of falling out, pieces of me were already missing, clinging to the insides of a tree’s bitter fruit

I’m still yearning to be held like an abandoned kitten left at the side of the road, only my family is still here

I’m trying to see if the tides will tie me over with their frightening charm, but I’m slowly breaking my own neck looking back at my old self

Straining my ears from pushing my own voice down them to see if it’ll slither out the other side

I just want to cry without being sad and laugh without anger

Broken Glows

am I even thinking
of tomorrow
and not letting go of yesterday?

I’m dreaming of a broken sunrise
and hoping that I can heal myself with the moon
dead of the night, shining to guide me with her
tiny little hat
sitting ontop of a glowing head

I want so many things
but I keep bumping into

One Minute Poem.