drink: part 1

what you dreamed last night,
what you want, is as close to
your hands, as impossible as
your heart, as difficult as
squeezing your heart.
what, last night, shadow,
window of sleep, darkness
of sleep, grew snatching
away you, was your peace,
was the long music of
glass in your veins.

now your face is like a
broken mirror. from spider
to spider you go, like a
fly, from day to day you
buzz, head with a thousand
eyes, hand with hair, open
mouthed, dowry.

you don’t grow anything,
you don’t even get born.
you snuck from the bottle
of death and tell me cheers!
between hiccups and hiccups.

dreams

i wanted to create something.
dreams. that were accessible
for people to take and to keep.
a piece to carry with them,
something that they could
touch, taste, hold, cherish.
something beautiful
that can be shared.

this morning

this morning

i hear the frogs again.

birds and insects

join them in song.

these things hold us

up in life, things to write

and draw and observe.

the things for us to 

walk amongst. 

safe

πš’πš πš•πšŽπšŠπšŸπšŽπšœ πš–πšŽ πšπšŽπšŽπš•πš’πš—πš
πš πšŠπš›πš– πšŠπš—πš 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎,
πš•πš’πš”πšŽ 𝚊 πšŒπš‘πš’πš•πš πš˜πš— πšπš‘πšŽ πš πšŽπšŽπš”πšŽπš—πš
πšžπš—πšπšŽπš› 𝚊 πššπšžπš’πš•πš
πš πšŠπšπšŒπš‘πš’πš—πš 𝚊 πš‹πšŽπš•πš˜πšŸπšŽπš πšπš’πš•πš–.

πšπš›πšŠπš πš’πš—πš πš˜πš— πšπš‘πšŽ πš•πš’πšŸπš’πš—πš πš›πš˜πš˜πš– πšπš•πš˜πš˜πš›.
𝚝𝚎𝚊 πšŠπš—πš 𝚝𝚘𝚊𝚜𝚝 πš πš’πšπš‘ πš“πšŠπš–
πšœπš’πšπšπš’πš—πš 𝚊𝚝 πšπš‘πšŽ πš”πš’πšπšŒπš‘πšŽπš— πšπšŠπš‹πš•πšŽ
πš πš’πšπš‘ πš–πš’ 𝚍𝚊𝚍.

πšŒπšžπš›πš•πšŽπš πšžπš™ πš˜πš— πšπš‘πšŽ 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚊,
πš›πšŽπšŠπšπš’πš—πš π™ΆπšŠπš›πšπš’πšŽπš•πš πšŠπš—πš π™²πšŠπš•πšŸπš’πš— & π™·πš˜πš‹πš‹πšŽπšœ.
πš πš›πš’πšπš’πš—πš πšœπšŽπšŒπš›πšŽπšπšœ πš’πš—πšπš˜ πš–πš’ πšπš’πšŠπš›πš’
in πš–πš’ πš‹πšŽπšπš›πš˜πš˜πš–, πš πš‘πš’πš•πšœπš πš•πš’πšœπšπšŽπš—πš’πš—πš 𝚝𝚘
𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎 πšπšŠπš™πšŽπšœ πš˜πš— πš–πš’ πšœπšπšŽπš›πšŽπš˜.

if

if more people valued home,

if more people followed their childhood dreams,

if more people could sit and be,

the world would be a merrier place 

i believe.

handstands

i used to do
handstands,
all the time
and watch TV
upside down,
feet propped
against a wall,
or inside the
door frame.
the world looked
better that way.
everything made
more sense to me
with clutter free
ceilings.

they sailed away

eventually,
they all go,
one by one,
like paper boats
in a downpour
towards a drain.

along the gutter
they float,
effortlessly.
until they
disappear.

and you wonder
why they went
like that, and
what you did
so wrong.