leave me-
sun, moon, stars
wilting, glass fixture and iris
...
Mother woke me this morning,
her voice, a rattle of earth and worms-
it may not concern you, she is dead.
...
I woke, awkwardly
in the dim light of morning
to find the world hushed in newborn snow.
...
They gave me reality alterations-
told me to rest:
tomorrow will bring better days.
I question the existence of tomorrow-
...
I am writing this alive and with a fever,
'cause I needs to sweat out the virus
and breathe calmly without choking, for once.
...
I want to remember the world this way:
The light, steadfast on the windowsill,
a breathless sky and the autumn as beautiful
as it is bitter.
...
I take sleeping pills
to anoint the ache,
stay awake long enough
to feel myself float
...
Becker was sitting on the steps
in the final moments of day-
catching fireflies with his fingers,
...
dry grass prickles my feet,
9 years old ignorant toward
the feeling that paralyzes my heart,
creates a lump in my throat-
...