lizard brains

It’s amazing how we won’t let each other die silently. If there is no death {then I’d rather die}. I’d rather die. Then. I’m in love with you. Air never sleeps. The air dies infinite {-ly}alive. & the closest we come to the bottom is a looking glass

“How do we light ourselves up again, / after so many cycles of smoke and spark, / how do we let rage lava into birth?”

Father, the loss of you is a planet orbiting what might have been. I cannot say if the emptiness is a grand celestial body or a vacuum so complete nothing can escape. I know these forces have mass and motion that bends, calls in, ripples fabric— distorts the pace of light for a billion years.

“If we are separated I will try to wait for you on your side of things your side of the wall and the water and of the light moving at its own speed”

I forgot to say that in addition to not being a mother, you might just be alone. Sit with that. Think of those joys, the form of solo waltz you will dance around your bed quilt, the trance of your morning drift, how you will learn to make dinner just for one mouth, how you will learn to feed only yourself and how it will not be sad at all.

What Will You Miss about the Earth?

but you see, i was seventeen and alone and nobody gave me anything except one book by dickinson and she was so neat, so precise, so human and i wasn’t. i just wasn’t.

“Depression is an endless Quebec snowfield, / it is the Pacific Ocean in January, whaleless / and deep in soft, cold current.”

August Prompts