Writing

I'm most likely to spend all night reading

and then regret it the next day. 

I'm the most likely to bring cookies for my friends

just to be the only one who likes them. 

I've never felt second best,

Being a twin, you get asked a lot of questions:

"Who's older?"

"Who's smarter?"

"Who's the favorite?"

creaks and creaks and won’t stop

the wind is wet and tangled in a fever

craggy maple hits smooth spruce walls

a wild night                 the dog

opens and opens and won't stop

in the mud,

in the dirt,

in the silt,

in the pores of the earth,

with the worms,

the moles,

the bugs,

It is sunny outside. I feel the heat, I see the other birds chirping from their perch on a branch. I want to fly, the wind ruffling my feathers, two hundred feet above the ground.

Inspiration is a fickle thing.

It toys with my emotions.

Fool's spring,

it instills false confidence,

making me feel like I

could change the world,

sitting on my couch

in my flannel pants