I am the girl who hides between moth eaten paper backs
And slips into bookstores and devours leather bound spines
I am chloroform lips bitten down, red and rosy
Ink stained finger tips that fold book pages between my pupils
I'm the girl who drowns herself in coffee and cough drops
While remaining curled between Tennyson and Steinbeck
Wasting days wondering why grass is green
And how it can be greener for others and not I
Then I realized its all artificial food colouring
And polystyrene picket fences
Sticky notes yellowed at the edges reminding myself how to smile
I've pasted them on my skin in makeshift paper Mache armour
But l
wonder how complicated immigrating must be if you're from another planet?
thinking about seriously writing again.
stretching these days: looking at poetry and different kinds of music and lots of chai in the morning.
fall is here.
still can't sew. drat.
i have been here once before -
perhaps it will be different this time.
for now, this is my collection of pictures i admire.
and maybe later, it will change.
(sleep tight)