poem

waking up seaside 

with tea colored eyes
i notice ivy began to grow 
out my eyes, mouth and nose
skimming the beach to find
comfort in this nautical 
graveyard - the half moon 
glistens on broken shells,
releasing and letting go
the feeling of falling but 
never landing - grinding 
my teeth between beach sand 
and stones, trying to 
remember how i got here in
the first place

 

 

      a girl with 
            a
dried 
   f l o w e r 
kind of 
         heart

 

place on

a

   dinner plate

these fingers

which write poems

     because

i have no time

      to find words

for my home was

                             set

    ablaze and

s w a l l o w e d

         my

               brain

WHOLE  

Norah Jones: Tiny Desk (Home) Concert