maybe someday

of myself,

i will learn to live

in the moment.

the moment

goes on whether i let it

or not.

it is fine not to know.

it is fine to believe

that the world could work

it's cold outside, for once

for now

so i trek up the hill from the trail.

i dare myself to look at nothing

to walk, to breathe,

to see

and to hear the wind rustling leaves

that have fallen and will not

return.

branches hold bear

over emptied streets

as i walk without a word

toward the only place i know community

amid silence.

it's warmer now,

and the coffee burns

and the stillness of autumn

i carry alone.

a table for one

by the window

to watch lovers pace by

in their grins.

i want beautiful words

and people who know me

on tuesday morning i return to my writing

i felt this

i did not heal

i have not yet.

the sun is out

and i can breathe without choking

the wooden slats of the bench have been punched out

but i can still sit

on the edge of it

i can still breathe with the wind

i can lean back on forgiveness

on goodness

on friends

i know we are meant to be changed

i can hold running water

as it slips through my fingertips

i can cart around sand in my shoes

i am not the things that made me

i am not the things that made me

some small sparrow

flits for an instant in view

a moment, a lifetime, a sudden goodbye

nothing remains as it was

the breeze takes the dragonfly with it

i can love things that leave me

paper cut on my tongue, letters to the grave. sip caffeine, stretch in place.

do not say it. do not say it.

kitchen counter, thursday night.

cutting board chatter, smoke alarm again. oven mitt, old excuses.

do not say it. do not say it.

spinning fan, saturday evening.

living room velvet couch. think of God, pray for more religion.

do not say it. do not say it.

more cranberry than vodka now. more close contact than normal now.

do not say it. do not say it.

sad song train ride, monday afternoon.

breathe in clementine. overcomplicate my commute for the hell of it.

kicked out of bars

kicked while i’m down

so i don’t go far

kicked to the side streets

kicked to the curb

kicked till i’m shaking

i crossed streets without looking

broke the zipper on my jeans

thought i was a communist

turns out i was just nineteen

loose pills in a junk drawer

took two or three for fun

i fell in love with decent

barely turned twenty one

check left right on a one way

i hesitate to trust

blackbird on the barbed wire

sad girl in a candy store

you can gnaw all you want

it doesn't fill the empty

it doesn't kiss the bruise

it doesn't close the void that

growing up is getting used to

you can take the honey

let it be raw

it doesn't sweeten anger

it doesn't make it stick

it doesn't put things back

he doesn't leave, he says goodbye

i'm working on changing, i'm building a wall

adapting my spirit, i'll convince them all

i'm hiding my feelings, agreeing to things

let others control me, i move on a string

compressing my body, i'm thinner than air

i silence my secrets, they don't know i'm there

the jokes aren't landing, they don't understand

i'm baking them chocolate, they eat from my hand

nobody believes me, i know i'm no fun

i'm awful and crazy, i was someone once

annoying and loudmouth, shut up and sit down

i painted my pretty, do they like me now?

romanticize weakness, i'm coming undone

they ask me for a face to put on the altar

to honor the dead, to remember

the only people i've lost are still living

you clipped a mirror driving home

margo says it's okay

if that's true i wouldn't know

they're sweeping the street and it feels like fall here and i was late for church again this week

my birthday is tomorrow and my roommates are getting high in the backyard and i ate cold spaghetti alone at the kitchen table

in the life i made up i have a swingset and a two door fridge and a best friend who lives in the same time zone as me

twenty two is terrifying and my boss thinks i'm funny and my first date told me he goes to the nude beach on sundays

i went on a hike and my friends compliment my baking and i am always attuned to what i can provide

i'm going to grad school but i didn't apply and i can't decide if connection is worth midwestern winters

i have grown tired of apologizing and it is easier

to ignore imperfections when i cannot change them

these days i eat full meals

i have grown weary of cleaning sink drains and it is quicker

to sleep without the hebdomadal upheaval of things i enjoyed

these days i punch heart holes in word documents

i have grown sick of pinching the skin folds and it is harder

to hurt myself gracefully out in public

these days i drink coffee and sell movie scenes to the passerbys

i have grown older before my own eyes and it is noticeable

to anyone who stops to see me in the back booth spotlight

these days i stay quiet in the bad moments

i have learned to repent yet again and it is holier

to lean into the proof of better things as they come

these days i yearn carelessly and without regret

i have grown bored of moderation and it is stronger