Untitled 3 i can't sleep at night. i can't sleep during the day either, but i guess that's irrelevant. when i write words i insist they don't have to make sense. but that's only half true. when i write words the only have to make sense to me. i i i i i i i i it's all i can do. think.
Untitled 2 she wears a headdress of feathers and glue, she's dancing in the rain and thinking of you. the mud on her shoes won't rub off, neither will the stains on her hands and feet. she's loud and beautiful but feels invisible, you tell her often enough, and say she's incredible. her jumpy dresses are in the wash, she's left with your jeans and too-big-shirts. she's smiling and sunny, 'i love you' you say, she frowns and replies 'we've only been us for a month and a day' 'i love you all the same'
Untitled 1 a field, a leaf, it becomes the forest. a branch, a tree, it becomes the promise. these things you see, happen slowly. do not rush, nor flush, my hopes and dreams you'll crush. a heart, an eye. it becomes a body. a tear, a smile. it becomes a #life. these secrets i see, happen suddenly. i'll rush and i'll sigh. my hopes and dreams are dust.