Some things are better off dead
Buried in the ground
The memories stuck in my head
Spiraling around and around

My soul sits in its tomb
My hopes are the coffin it lies in
My inner child is the surrounding gloom
My dreams are the flowers lying on the stone

My trauma make up the walls that surround
My pain is the drawings underground
My soul was buried with the shackles that bind me
I had to bury it all so it would let me breathe

You have to stop looking behind to look ahead
That’s why some things are better off dead

breathe
i           breathe

words separate
the silence

light’s brittle
and intimate ministry

liquid across the wall
looking forward

let us leave
ourselves behind

we      breathe
            breathe

i told you inaccurate things
in numerous ways
but i’ll be there when it snows in july
i’ll be there

you are a girl-shaped forest
a thing on fire
we are running away together
into an even greater forest

i will never be enough
i will never amount to anything other
than a blunt knife
i cannot be the dragonfly across your chest

does my name sound like a train whistle to you
or does it sound like birdsong
every morning a sky is painted
over the other, more hollow sky

the peach pit of my heart,
stuck between the teeth of the tree that made it
there’s nothing left to do
life is a ring of red beads

i pretend to be lost
so you will go door to door with me
looking for a familiar face
looking for you

Seattle misty rain
ferry boat blue
         salmon