growing up and away


moving away to new places

and losing what became like a home,

only to recognize that it was always just a house.

some things stay the same

like the food i can get at the grocery store

and my dog sleeping in my bed,

but most of it doesn’t

and i don’t quite know how to grasp that sometimes.

i want transformation

and i want to grow,

but losing anything good in the process breaks my heart.

i see now that it is impossible not to.

that i have lost friends and loved ones

to distance that is physical or emotional.

you, and him and her.



i’m sitting in my new apartment

looking out the window at the trains going by,

thinking this is so peaceful,

but also

it makes me cry,

because this view

means something new.

and i’m not quite ready to feel so uneasy again.



he leaned over the stair railing, crying.

“there is somebody up here. can you please come up here?”

“no,” she said.

“there is nobody up there.”

“you’re letting the worry win.”

it was the most profound thing i’ve ever heard a sixth grader say.

“don’t let the worry win.”

my bedroom at night

an old camera rests on the desk,

with an attachable flash on the top

ready to take a picture of the petals when they open,

ready to watch the world through its lens.

the room is lit just enough

so that you can see the outline of colors around you,

but not enough

that you feel the heaviness of day.

millennial war


the nervous system

as calm as a lake,

while tsunamis are brewing in the ocean.

they say

“don’t do this.”

“don’t do that.”

“be like this.”

“grow up.”

who are we supposed to be

i don’t really know.

do you?

other than entitled.

the generation of lazy children

taking too long to become adults.

but what about the positives?

they never seem to matter as much.






the most reliable friends we have.