I cup the moon in my hands
from a safe space
on untamed ground
in a forgotten place.

The moon—
its glow, it lingers,
wrapping soft eggshell hues
around my fingers.

This is what love says:
enough has been said
the same words
I'll not raise

I keep going, even on the days I can barely breath,
I keep quiet and I listen carefully to my own needs.

I may not feel joy yet, and that’s okay.
I’m learning to take care of myself, while having nothing to say.


For now, that is enough.

This is my win.

It's a tale as old a s time. You never know
how much of a difference someone made
in your life until they're gone. I've known
that for a while yet you never truly
understand it til it happens. I'm laying in
my room right now, and I've just been
thinking. I tried pretending it didn't hurt me
and that everything was normal for the
past few days, but it all came crashing
down on m e today. All the things that I
may have found annoying are now things I
wish I could do again. His white hair
everywhere, him constantly going in and
out of my room. I always slept with the
door open in c a s e he wanted a place to
sleep, but always worried of him shedding
everywhere. I've been thinking of all that,
and just trying to power through it. But as I
was in the shower, I was thinking about my
clothes. My basket is still currently
downstairs and my clothes are still drying,
so l need to put the clothes that are in my
room on the love seat, but I don't want
buddy to get his hair all over them... I broke
down crying. I'm sorry if we didn't treat you
the best Buddy boy, but I always loved you.
I would do it all and all again if it meant we
got to have you back. You are a good boy,
and always protected and cared for us.
You're too cool to forget Budro

Love you, and thank you, Thunder Buddy

I don’t want to die,
I want to cease to exist.
To never have been born
And never have lived
For my soul and body to disappear
For any memory of me to be gone
To dissolve into nothingness and
Never have been anything at all

I feel like I'm a waste of perfectly good air
Everyone hates me
And I think I hear death calling my name

Sitting like a stone,
Why have we grown?
The moon’s following you,
On the street, walking alone.