#22-365
your false optimism
collapses bridges
while I walk through the valley
of the shadow of death
I need the room
to fear evil
no one wants to fall in
but when our feet slip
we need to be allowed
to cough
#21-365
My entire life
is essentially
a series
of precautionary measures
set in place
to prevent
the impending realization
of how truly
unhappy
I am.
#20-365
my head—sown
with euphoric recall
my body aches
at the sound of nonexistent days
o my god, i cry by day, but you do not answer,
and by night, but i find no rest.
selectively examining
selective memory
leaning
on my own understanding
all who have ears to hear
let them hear
but i can’t decipher
the present
from the past
and maybe it’s fear
that illusions
are all i have.
#19-365
there is no beauty
no awe
without an element
of fear.
a canyon is only as amazing
as your fear of falling
is great.
an ocean
only as majestic
as the thought
of your life in its hands.
#18-365
There is none righteous
not even one
there is none who seeks for god
so god,
it’s time you seek for me
because I’m not even sure
that I want you
anymore
and when I talk to you
I struggle to see the use
in talking
to myself
.
jesus have mercy on me.
FML
Did I say every day for a year? I meant as often as I want, 365 times.
I’ll make up for this, eventually.
#17-365
I don’t even
know
how to stop
being mad.
So
there’s that.
#16-365
I don’t believe you
the way I used to believe you
and I know this isn’t rhythmic
and isn’t pretty
God
it’s never pretty
but I am really sick
so sick
of being second choice
#15-365
last night
I dreamed
10,000 poems
each one
unique to itself
and beautiful in complexity
and simplicity
and none
about you.
#14-365
and although your house is on fire
you are too concerned with other things
like judging my homelessness
to pay any mind.
#13-365
I am not
asking you
to stop
loving her
just stop
loving
me.
#12-365
you pushed me down
and held me under.
from beneath you
I stood
with my head submerged,
that you might not drown
as well.
#11-365
every turn in your skull
was defined
as your skin fell slowly
to the bottoms of your feet
and as your bones unhinged
and your organs unwrapped
you looked at me
and said
with your last breath
I wasn’t made for this
#10-365
in that moment
all the trees
fell to the ground
all the oceans
dried
and the voices
in the air
were silenced.
#9-365
the poems inside my chest
ricochet off my ribcage
and shoot to my feet
back up to my head
into my readied hands
but my fingers
won’t unclench
and the poems
get stuck somewhere
between my elbows
and wrists
