Writing

I want to cross the street and have cars catapult around me

Mass destruction like wouldn't you know it

I want my steps to echo the pavement

And for the world to swerve around me

But I walk and nothing happens

(ywp is like the sunrise)

washed in watercolor above the sleeping world

enchantingly illuminatory

& strawberry melting into orange creamsicle. if you pay

close attention, it never really ends

I hold onto anything that leaves a mark.

rings that coat my fingers in green

doodles in blue ink on my arm

I hope for my injuries to form scars

just to prove their existence.

scratching bug bites until they scab

I am such a horrible awful jerk

I refuse pets

I refuse animals

Because I refuse to get another

Because that feels like replacing her

And so I won't do it

But there are all these animals out there

Have a great Labor Day weekend, everybody!

What if it's not labor

What if I want to anyway

What if that was why I got out of bed every painful stupid day after the other

The puzzle's missing a piece,

It's not an important one; 

just some small piece in the middle.

It's dark purple, and rough on the edges,

It's under the floorboards,

all frayed, and torn apart;