what am I afraid of
if not my own judging mind
lay down excuse after excuse
cloak it as happiness
but remember
happiness in the rain on Broadway
parking a car in stress to land on a list
to get on a mic
and stand with the nerves
wrapped in sobriety
I’ve gotten cocky
tell them it’s not what I do anymore
like I’ve out grown growing on paper
but truly I miss it
wish I could write without judgement on my tail
but there she is
always tugging at me
pulling me back
reminding me some wells run dry
she says I’m full of dust
and I cough
a puff of smoke
and a dried out metaphor
call it writer’s block
that showed up in 2020
like the virus attacked something other than my lungs
what is a virus that pulls away at poetry?
that steals art to hang on no ones walls?
and if a painting crashes
you swear nobody hears it
and if a poet stop getting on the mic
you swear
no body...

do not punish yourself for taking a chance on the idea that taking out of you that which shouldn’t be there could bring you relief.

you chose for the knowing
and you chose with the hope that you were doing a good thing.

that your body was traumatized every month and that maybe now, without these extras, it could relax.

you chose to remove that which was causing inflammation.

your body right now, is healing.

your body right now, is inflamed.

if there is pain, it should be of no surprise.

give it time.

and if time comes and still, then take this as an opportunity to build compassion for yourself.

for the parts of you that said yes.

even when parts of you said no.

there was no clear pathway, and you are not to blame.

you chose what made sense.

and now you must heal.

and now, the choice was not wrong. as it will not be wrong tomorrow or a month from now.

you...

Sometimes love pops up in your top 10
then quickly evades it
hit refresh, but still love’s face doesn’t show
and the work must go on
but what if?
maybe nothing.
but what if?
maybe something,
once upon a time
until time passes and love,
circles back.

As the saying goes
let it go
and if it returns
it’s just pretty damn persistent
but if stays
if it stays you can’t help but wonder
what would this life be like
if you missed?

But it found you.
Like love has a knack for finding everything
look up
and love is holding your phone
look up
and love is holding your keys
look up,
and love
is holding a spoon.

How love is a story told,
how it starts
over a bowl of soup
she, reaches out for bean sprouts
and basil leaves
slowly tears them apart to release their flavor
and he
follows suit
they drop jalapenos in the water
and heat builds between them.
Give them 95...

I wanna fall in love like it’s magical
like every moment I didn’t have you was only a test
and though patience
was never my virtue
I waited anyway
to call you happy ending
to make everything ending before you make sense
every regret
now triumph
ever decision always made in the right direction
I call you true north
but still fail at cardinal directions
gps my way to you
even if all the roads have messes
we still end up here
just maybe not on time
I burn candles at the alter
pretend every woman has a witch inside her
wish upon shooting stars like
just one more will do the trick
but the city lights make magic
impossible to see so
11:11 strikes
and I rewind the clock
11:11 strikes
and I rewind the clock.

she decorate her space with paintings
she painted for her grandma
but when death came
she took these parts gifted and hung them
on her walls
paints her nails black most times
but also enjoys colors
decorates and redecorates walls
moves desks and lays down rugs
returns rugs for her toes crave more softness
thinks about standing and sensitivities
reminds herself she’s not crazy for wanting her toes
to rest on soft landings
justifies how many hours they will remain
and how important their comfort is.
She decorates time with laughter
keeps time with people she feels heard with
and with those who also ask for her ears
sometimes,
poems pause the moment from A to B
gives her A.5 and something to share about
decorates time with dog walks and performances in her office
for only herself and a mic that’s never been
plugged into a speaker
calls it practice
as she sleeps she dreams...

they say love can move mountains
I assume
I am surrounded by the sea
assume
love can too, swim
but don’t know, really
which is easier?
is it hiking
until oxygen barely pulses through veins?
or head underwater
gasping
is loving me
worth the danger
of you running out?

falling in love
wraps me up in all sorts of
everything
pulls me up to the city sky
and I look down at all of it
glad to finally be away from it
love
pulls me away from it

has me think
down
is never a place I’ll wander to again
until down
is the space I’m looking up from
wonder
where flight and butterflies
go to die?
wonder where we go to mend the pieces?

love
never again
tell myself
love
only slower next time

take love lost
as lesson
love arriving
as warning to slowdown

but love is often fast
often skipping
knows only on
and off
and nothing in between

I say love
next time let’s be friends
let’s visit the city sky in the daylight
let’s hike to the 13th floor
so we can remind ourselves
heights like these take efforts
and it’s much better
when you can feel sturdy
beneath your feet

but love
doesn’t always listen
I mean I
don’t always listen

my dad looks at the sun
and calls it the moon
I scream
“but don’t you feel the heat?!”
my dad says
“heat isn’t something you feel,”
I watch the sun rays land on his face
so he moves us to the shade of a tree
I say
“you see dad
how the sun shines so bright
you take shelter”
my dad says,
“the moon
is beautiful tonight.”

I look at the bright sky
but fear asking him its color.
I look at yellow dandelions
as my father complains
of the dying red roses
where are there are none
I take the white parachute flower
and try to wish his ignorance away
but instead
pieces of me are taken with the wind
I grasp and grasp
but open to see only an empty hand
my dad
sits silently
speaks only to complain
“the moon is unlike I remember it,”
he says
“I know dad,”
I say,
“this one is brighter
so bright we take shelter under the tree,”
my dad nods
quietly
and I surrender to the...

I eat dinner at 9 pm
thank you hello fresh
for
everything.

I can be your
mental health case study
put my face on your reviews and write
“I was going to skip another meal
until I couldn’t but I didn’t.”

• Irina, recent customer, 1st box, 2nd recipe

It’s a big deal.
Cuz I’ve justified skipping meals
for all the sleeping
don’t need all those calories if I’m out
14 hours a night
a restless bliss till tired morning.

But I beat depression
one dish at a time.

Fill the dishwasher full and truly
truly consider wiping the counters
how much is the state of our kitchens,
a reflection of our minds?
I almost scrub it clean
create an illusion I might fool myself
into buying tomorrow.

How many times can I clean the bathroom
till it loses it’s luster?

How many drawers re-arranged
until sadness returns?

How quickly the vacuum lines
leave my rug
how fast the dog hair...