A broken branch hangs from the oak
As the last of the leaves fall
So does the limb
Embedding into the ground
And below the cracked sticks 
The mud slips further into the squelch below
Mixing soil with dirt as it settles
The ground resists, unwilling to choke on its 
Swallowed pride
An hand bends and picks it up from the bottom
Time for plan b as the leaf is released
Settling on top of the branch


You look at yourself and say
Your stomach is too large
Your head too bulbous
Your neck too pockmarked

Never forget that you are prescient
That every prediction you’ve made has come true
That when you wake up in the morning
And say today will be awful, it usually is
And that every time you resolve to have a good day, it usually is

Your eyes are small and beady but behind heavy lids
They spark with unwritten ideas and unraveled stories
Some days that electricity lights up the page
Some days it vanishes down a wire into the recesses of your brain
But it is still there, potential energy caged.

Never cut your hair to reveal your receding thoughts and
The fear that at the end of your life all that will be there is
A wasteland of bottled potential and missed chances
For you are singular and beautiful and even if you die
Cold, alone and unmoved by art
You will still have made an impression just with your wit and your eyes


A flaw in the stone cracks with very little pressure.
This imperfection was part of its birth. 
The heat that compressed and birthed at the beginning
is the same cause of fracture and ruin at the end. 

I see this stone in my servos, this mineral in my motherboard.
I feel the dust grind in between my joints as the lightning inside me lessens. 
I feel the flaw splinter down my spine as my synapses slow.

My brain becomes dull, human, responding with the pace of flesh.
With my last thought, I remind myself that energy can not be destroyed; it can only change. 
Maybe in my next life, I’ll forge a perfect stone.

I buzzed. You didn’t answer. 
I buzzed. You didn’t answer. 

Do you want to break up with me?

I watched. You ignored the question. 
I watched. You ignored the question.  

Yes.

Through my bathroom window
I see the sun, 
the unbroken sky, 
the trees in bloom
And I remember that 
As humanity panics 
And hoards 
And bickers 
The earth does not care
Nature is dispassionate
So when this is all over
Millions of years from now 
The earth will see us as 
Nothing more than a single cough
That passed through its atmosphere and
Dissipated into the universe

There is a hole in the back of my lungs
When I breathe in, it flexes
When I breathe out, it whistles
The air escapes into the night

My lost breath intermingles with the black
The night reaches with slow fingers as I
Breathe back in, air settling into my lungs

Until it leaks out through the hole again

Don’t tell me my physical imperfections are beautiful.
Don’t tell me that my gap-toothed teeth make my smile unique.
Don’t tell me that my squinty slitted eyes hide irises that rival a model’s.
Don’t tell me that my webbed stretch marks make me gorgeous

Don’t measure me by my body.

Tell me it does not matter whether my body is ugly or beautiful.
Tell me it does not matter whether my teeth are straight or crooked.
Tell me it does not matter whether I am fat or skinny.
Tell me it does not matter what I look like at all.

Instead,

Look into me and see the shape of my soul.
Look into me and trace the outline of my heart.
Look into me and find the strength of my compassion.
Look into me and know the truth of who I am.

Then and only then,
You can tell me I am beautiful
Then and only then,
I will believe you


First it came for the black people
And no one cared

Then it came for the brown people
And no one cared

Then it came for the white people
And now it’s a crisis

When I wake up in the morning
Shake the sawdust from my still dreaming mind
Stretch my legs in just the right way so I don’t fall into spasms
I try to remember my dreams

But there is nothing there besides a ink-black wall
Unfathomably high and incalculably long
I pound at it, chain-mailed fists flailing
But the wall stares back, implacable and eternal

So I fade into my day
A sepia figure in a charcoal world
Gallons of gritty coffee are the only change in shade
Until the night, until the deep ink night

Wait for me by the errant sea.
I rise and fall with the tide. 
You stand close, inhaling my salt spray.
Bitter flavor on your tongue. 

Why won’t you wade into my depths?
Play with the horseshoe crabs and the starfish below. 
Your crooked toes curled up in the cool sand as 
The waters wash across you. 

But instead you sit on the shore,
Gazing across the hidden ocean
Your errant mind filled with dreams