Poetry

Since the April you left us, you took the spring blooms with you.

no one tells you that your first (hypo)manic episode reaches its peak in a middle school / first year teaching / fresh off a “medical leave”

When you feel the impossible breathing down your neck you’re on the right track.

there is sometimes nothing more than enduring.

when your todo list starts with “enter a synaesthetic flow state” and ends with “send that email you’ve been putting off” you start to wonder

still here, unexpectedly i refuse to do the deed for them

I feel I’m free falling into depths of distress

i don’t know what it looks like from an outsider’s perspective when i sit for twenty minutes staring at a glass of soy milk unable to make myself take a sip.  

Like starlight in a Dark Sky city so many twinkling fingertips

I have never fallen so completely in love with a thing.