Chew that language— Carefully or the words might Clog your airways Don’t talk with that language in Your mouth Others might see the leftover vowels Clinging to your gums Keep your mouth squeaky or The old language will seep Rush into your bloodstream And reach your roots
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Unaware and alone Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. Harassment trust is a skin And when — Someone rips your shell with lifeless Fingernails and that smug, smug, smug Smile and they Slam your insides into the dirt Over the wall and across the room, Doorways you thought were …
There was a woman who looked up and was flushed. The stars took her eyes and pulled them up up to the edge of the atmosphere while her body was left to sink sink until the black ribbon that held her together snapped and she fell into the crust of the earth buried alive but …
You clock out and it's time for your next job, Turn on your magic, sweet salvation Turn your keys into knives Bags into shields, your body into A fleshy cryptid that can can break necks And go to war with a cell phone You must not speak unless spoken to, You do not belong and …
I don't know anything about boats, But the fisherman told me to buy one. He's a man who used to be happy, Swimming between homes, His body catching waves instead of Silver fish that taste like blood. He's an old photograph, And so we trust him Out of sadness and pity, We trust the fisherman …
The reason I stayed away from my home for a week is not essential to this post. I could not be home and so I stayed with friends and loved ones for a week. The whole experience made me think more about the concept of home than I ever have before. What is it and …
I have these two milk-white stains on my two front teeth. Fluoride buildup. Genetic. They're a different shade of white than my teeth, so they stand out a bit. Deadly. Genetic. My smile is loaded. It was built by an architect I have yet to meet. It carries a stained history with connective tissue and …
Our lives are the stories we tell ourselves. The epics, the comedies, the tragedies, the nonfictions, the fantasies. We are a summation of perception and interpretation. How and what we see around us. And it is liberating. The story I tell myself is: I am loved and I love. I am enough. And there are …
I am nobody and everybody. I can be filled with infinite caution and infinite joy. I am not important to the universe, and I am the center of an ever expanding universe. I can love my body and want to make it stronger. I am a sun in a world of stars - no different …
Noun. Sometimes turned verb. Excitement: Being present while imagining a possible future. I believe it is possible to do both. To acknowledge both without taking away from either one. I also believe their root feelings are more similar than we think. Being present feels like temporary infinite joy. Oxymoronic joy. And imagining a possible future …
The Sunflower Library 