am i attaching myself to the wall
running through the forest
believing that i’m mildly psychic
with a spinning head
and a sweatshirt of tree sap
and cotton
within a haze two uninterested baristas
dressed in black take my order
strutting one foot in front of the other
listening to conversations
running through the forest
placing my happiness on whether or
not he will be bringing someone with him tonight
taking my shoes off and getting in feet first i
into the cold river looking for a stone to place on
my countertop for decoration
I pick the orange
I leave the river
with my head attempting to take in the surroundings
but only remembering


a haunting

in touch
with the darkness and the morbid
i’m no less light
these thoughts aren’t real
it’s fear
and watered with the fear
from others like me
I want sun and to have
never been lonely
or hurt a world
that has never experienced pain


clean the house
use apple cider vinegar and an
old cloth
after, walk through every inch
with palo santo
take the recycling out
feel the last round
of cold winter air
pay close attention to the
feel of the rocks
through the black and white
striped socks
this is a different place
there are mountains in the distance
a dog on a wood floor


by too many talking people
thought I saw some trauma causing human
from my past as I walked to the salon this morning
It’s rained everyday since I moved here my Florida
there’s a quote that says a sign of
a healed scar is being able to look at the
person with no emotional reaction
my eyes are tense
I’m tired
everyone is wearing earth tones
everyone here is so zen
my eyes look desperate
this is a list
of all of the things
that are cycling
The mountains
The rain
The contrast to what I experienced a week ago


tiptoeing down a
spiral staircase
to arrive at the room
where a breathe from
a couple years ago
a memory oh I
remember it was the
smell of a worn in
slightly woodsy
breathe full
of found branches
leaning into warmth
a memory