the thought of it being anything other than a chair scares you.
poetry
reasons I exist
a fire / a trough / a pill
the difference
the subtle nose dive / the silent quake
catastrophizing as an art
you have the wicked ability / to paint flowers as death's invitation.
passerine
like placing paper / to the flame.
rhythms
i am effortlessly erratic
the loop
the days are a game / of catch and release.
what’s too hard to say out loud
Sometimes it all feels like swallowing glass; you reach for a solution but it's like trying to catch smoke in your hand.
let it go in the water
silver as the / magnetic moonrise.
ode to my other half
let's pretend this / never happened
