powerful feeling sorrowwrap me in your arms and keen with mesadness sing metaphors of melancholyparables of hopethat I would one day be wisesecreting my understanding quietlyso not to let others seebold is not the country waygentle knowledge humility is...

I get ink stains on my fingers because I play with my pen when I’m thinking. And I’ll frequently end up with it on my face. Some girls get racoon eyes from their mascara. But I get this war paint in smears and streaks.

I wrote us on the glass of the shower the water hot on my bare skin And the words cried Little droplets  coalesced by my witchcraft and sorcery Little condensing bundles  of water magic that carry away the words  of my wish

You call it shy As a joke In front of everyone at our meeting And I sit there and don't respond Confirming your accusation  I let you Think Whatever you want Because you don't know How this time last year I was so overwhelmed By a life I no longer had...