Moon Moon pizza pie
arc a trail across the sky

As I lie aching in my bed
Popping pills to relieve my head
Those throbs I seek to quell
First chill, then sweat, then blankets off
Kept awake by a nagging cough
Hoping I’ll soon be well.

What will be left
of this old house
when I am gone?

Little dreamer, next to me
shaded by the apple tree
not a sound do you make
I’ll be here when you wake
Little dreamer, next to me
shaded by the apple tree

Your birth was a promise
from me to you
that I would always have your back
no matter what

The floor disappears beneath me
my cheeks flashing red like a stoplight
my hands at once wet and cold
where can I disappear to?

slap
swish
sneakers pound
three giggles

Down by the seashore
down by the sea
Johnny broke a bottle
and blamed it on me

Be a good girl
follow the leader
heed the rules
get along
keep the peace

Had I known it was the last time
I would have stopped to take in the moment
I would have leaned in and looked closely
Listened and touched and smelled and breathed it all in
I would have bottled it up into a sacred space inside me
a space I could return to

Wise sage speak your truth
but we will despise you for it

Stand up for what is right
and we will whisper about you in the shadows

Who else
would I rather drag a Uhaul with,
full of a 1000 piece Ikea jigsaw couch,
up the highway?

It helps when I know we agree
hell, it helps to know when we just disagree

It helps when communication is clear
and sometimes it helps to just know less

I am always compelled to move
to get things done
to achieve
to experience

I dream of running away to a place of quiet, of freedom, my own harbor. I have always been an escaper.

I woke up today to the same crazy world.

The hum of dread was there
but dim and nearly mutable.

Filling up a needy person’s cup is exhausting.
It is more of a job than one person can manage.
It takes a team.

How could you not see
me drowning?

Why did you not hear
my cries for help?

The old pain
long gone but remembered in pixelated detail by this body
synapses fired
messages sent
distress from the root to all its arterial legions
awoken and fighting in moments.

This time of day is no-man’s-land.
Not the morning
nor the evening
Not the high noon
nor the afternoon

Today I went to the restaurant that used to be a tchotchke shop.

I wore my t-shirt with the logo of the donut shop that used to be down the street.

I wore the necklace that my mother doesn’t remember giving me.

I went home on a one-way street that used to be a two way