Hummingbirds With Red Flowers
Hands
I watch you as you wash your hands with fear, Red that represented my DNA The scenes that play over in my head form tears As that same soul dies and cripples away I wonder if it was all in my head You would make me laugh the same way she did “Sweet, I
Growth
You grasp this glimmer of sunshine For a minute you feel that you are on top But then the wind kicks beneath you And u fall in some sort of trap U ache yourself to escape it Seeing everyone you love from above U try your best to climb each rough Thinking you’d never be
Today Sucks, Tomorrow Might Not
I feel as if there is something inside me. Not in a parasitic or demonic way, but something needs to come out. I have been feeling a multitude of spontaneous desires that feel deeply urgent. These include but are not limited to: singing, dancing, talking to strangers, reading, writing, painting my nails, walking, running, driving
An Open Letter to the Mom That Left
I once had a therapist tell me that I didn’t know you at all. That I was too young to really know you when you died. Maybe he’s right. I know you loved art, though. Not the kind that’s hung up in museums, but creativity. Making art boxes covered in stickers, laughing on the floor
