the everyday.

today, there is no crayon chaos, just
art, just
you and me and
no mess, just
exploration and discovery and
fascination and growth, i want to be
less caught up and
more slowed down, not
worried about creating the
perfect life, but taking the
time to just
enjoy the one we have, enjoy

the universe is heavy.

so much of the time i am
broken in so many places, in my
back and my heart and my
pocketbook, and i
feel the weight of the world on my
shoulders, and i
guess i'm finally figuring out that
maybe it's just that the universe feels so
much heavier because you're
so near, and you're
the one holding it all together while still
holding me

life flows different than prose.

i try to write prose in little
bite-sized pieces, never
overwhelming the reader, never
losing the a.d.d. kid with too many
run-on sentences

line breaks that keep you
holding on for something, keep you
shifting your eyes to the left to see
what's coming next, but i
am not like this in real life

i try to get to know people in little
bite-sized pieces, never
overwhelming the new guy, never
losing your interest with my
deeply flawed character

but life does not flow like prose, does not
skim past the boring parts, does not
forgive mistakes like a
misspelled word, and does not
have delete or backspace or
save as draft, just has
real, unedited, imperfect and
beautiful rhythm, and i guess that's
pretty alright if i can just
stay on tempo and



fragmented pieces of my
life from here and there and
everywhere, all the
incompletes that have cost me so
much sleep and sanity are
now slowly coming together to
form a picture perfect life, like a
mosaic of everything i thought was
just broken, and i
am overjoyed, and i
am wondering how i
could ever have doubted you


a most beautiful masquerade.

frowns upside down by daylight, i am
a work in progress, i am
flawed but getting there, and i am
a liar

i offer my confession of sins that are
humble in admittance, the real
skeletons buried deeper, out of
sight & mind

but the truth of the matter is a much
uglier monster, it is
beans spilled the second you
cross me, it is
critical and annoyed and it is
otherwise damaged as i
struggle to make it to
the end of the day still in
one piece, still okay with
the world at large

frowns upside down by daylight, i am
a work in progress, i am
flawed but getting there, and i am
a liar, but i am
coming to terms with
myself and
beckoning change



she's not a happy girl for
rent to own, to
put on layaway until you're
ready to buy
without bantering or markdowns re:
damaged merchandise, she is
full price, all or nothing
no refunds or exchanges, she's been
bravely on display, and she's been
picked up and put down and picked
up again
her feet downtrodden with the
traffic over time, her
heart weary and broken, and still
growing back stronger, still
burning hope for tomorrow and she is
waiting for forever to
find her and wisp her