Poem or Prayer
I.
I sleep under an open window and use two blankets now. Last night someone below me was playing the piano. I heard the sounds of planes flying overhead. Always, there’s a softness. Always, something that could crash.
II.
Crush. It’s been a while. I don’t know if that’s what this is, but it feels like it—the heaviness of want, of what could be. The actual word is something I hate. How it softens with that final sh. And the very definition: a force that destroys or deforms. During this new rush of feelings, don’t forget what will actually happen.
III.
The one person I never give a break to is myself. Everything will be okay. Everything will be okay.
