Poetry

Going back on the record / of my life since 2019, / examining the transcripts and / videos, I imagine / tracing my silhouette, to see / where I end and the rest / of the world begins.

All I see is the page / It’s all that matters but I’m not allowed to look at it, / I must suspend disbelief.

Do you hate me sometimes / for worrying you.

Letters of Curses (why God, why?). Letters sent to Churches (I guess I’ll trust in Him for Her, sigh). Letters I spied from my little eye (the first letter of her name, on your Spotify).

What can we do that AI can’t?

Before we go to the protest on Wednesday, wear the ribbons — I just want to climb into bed with you. 

I have nightmares of being a mother at 7 years old / I want to ask my mother if she feels like me too.