“Lord, let me write,leave me autistic and typinguntil my windows bust into a thousand silver dovesand I know the poem is done.”

“This is an apology letter to the both of us for how long it took me to let things go.”

“Well this is me without my prozac, and this is me just shy of nicotine, and mother fuckers, it’s my second time to fail anger management class.”

“Tell me my heart beats a war drumthat my eyes are not just armiesbut my spineis a harpoon.”

“I should have told You before talking in terms of Foreverthat any given day wears me out and works me sour,that there are nights when the sky is so clear I stand obnoxious underneath it begging for the stars to shoot at me just so I can feel at Home.”

“I no longer need you to fuck me as hard as I hated myself.”

“I am standing like shoe polish on an overstocked shelf hoping that one day someone will pick me to make things better.”