The Dream Verse

The old me is on the floor Crumpled in a ball Like discarded newspaper Like a used napkin with something red And it’s not clear if it is…

It’s going to be beautiful once you build it packed moist sand you mold like clay

You called yourself a “friend.” then proceeded to trample over our house pee in the parlor rip down the curtains toss paintings off the…

Is it because we are scared that we’re not any good?

I don’t remember how it got so bad

How running keeps me sane

Reflecting on the benefits of solitude.

When anxiety won’t let me sleep

You look at me like an eye doctor Straight into my eyes,  finding fault in my flecks,  the inconsistencies of my corneas, and I struggle…