HOME | DD

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01.
yesterday, i wrote
your name on a slip of paper
and folded it into an origami star.

it hangs on my bonsai tree
(little trees for big
wishes) as a just-in-case hope
for those times when it feels like
absolutely nothing
can make me
happy.

sometimes, when even stars
and little trees aren't
enough to make me happy, i cut
down the paper stars and pretend
that it is a meteorite shower in my
bedroom, but sometimes that
just makes it worse
because i realize
that shooting stars are actually
falling stars;

we are all just stars that have
forgotten the happy-thoughts that
made us fly,

it's just that some of us are blazing and beautiful
before we burn out. and die.

- -

02.
i can write disorderly words with random indents
and call it "poem", and
people will still say
they like it
because we all know
what it's like to be unhappy
and there is nothing
unhappy people like better
than making people
happy.

i can jump over my own leg and
touch my toes if i really try,
but i can't stop being terrible
and i can't stop thinking
i'm terrible.

but i'm trying, really. i'm trying.

- -

03.
cliches are last resorts for poets who
ran out of ideas.
they write things
like how someone has stolen
their heart and taken it somewhere
far far away and now it is
lost.

i like to hold two fingers on my neck
and remind myself that i have
a heart, but sometimes i
just can't make myself trust biology,
because writers never
trust
science.

fact:
beethoven composed without his ears;
i can write without my heart.