whatever happened to me
to the dreamer who dreamt to dream...

I thought the fountain of my tears
had gone dry a year ago...

upstairs, the alarm clock
goes crazy trying to wake up my neighbors...

for every lie,
I place a pillow between us...

Dear,
you are like old gunpowder...

an egg on the countertop
rolls...

Yesterday
you took a stake, and with it...

The sun up high does shine too bright
upon a daffodil in sight...

“a fork is all you need” he said
“that’s all you need” he reassured himself...

with a dirty boot
and a pocket knife in hand...

This winter
the sky is cold white...

that boy you called a twig
was the compass who guided me home...