My Airwalks are the color of a cotton candy sky...
I'm sitting on a scuffed black leather couch in a...

They say
it will come and go...

This will be rough, as I've had far
too many shots of vodka, yet...

Another poem to my depression:
You are what I slip on...

I wake up past noon,
limbs anchored to...

There once was a lively flock of birds,
always in sight of a grand destination...

I drift
from the carriage...

You wear color like it is your new identity,
beckoning spring to sing when you rush out...

The surreal embers
glow within us...

I held a moonless night in my palms,
a night without parents, without care...

There are no trees or leaves
acoustically sounding...

You hoped you would reach me,
to tell me that you could not...