Note to self:

People keep filling from your empty cup not because they can not see but because you do not have a handle.

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My entire state is grieving Zubeen da's loss, but I am in a place where people know nothing about what he means to us. The weekend is over, and tomorrow, I will need to face people at work.

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Today is Friday, not Thursday, not Wednesday, not even Tuesday.

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Somewhere someone has started bleeding.
Somewhere someone has stopped bleeding.
If you're a woman both are a problem.

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Life is a mixed bag and am learning to choose better. But some days all I choose come in a plastic wrapper. Lately my dreams feel like living inside these bags too. There is just no getting away. I see plastic all around me, tossing and turning like a Whale gone silent.

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Nothing clears the cloud like the moon
nothingness fills in the space
before it is declared a place
not everything needs a place
not every place needs a clearing
look at the sea flowing across
you can, too
clouds are just horses that flew
to reclaim space and hide places
and the Moon made a deal
to co-exist in days one to fifteen
flowing like the sea.

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The snooze button feels a renewed sense of purpose tonight.

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It's always the people, not the food.

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Between losing its wings and
finding its feet
Freedom grew.

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