You are the best thing that has ever happened to you. - Andrea Gibson

My mother used to knit my mittens too big so they’d still fit me when I grew. I wore them and looked like who I wasn’t yet. I feel that sometimes when I’m writing poems — like they don’t yet fit. Do you ever feel like the best of you is something you’re still hoping to grow into?

who with a heart can stomach / how much they can stomach? / all your blood in the water / and i could still wade through, / and i will again and i will again / and i will again with everyone i lose. / what i want most is to live / the rest of my life desperately / wanting to live it.

If love did not exist I would be so goddamn sane my poems would be billboards. Suburbia would be enough. I would not have to gut myself to find my spine crushed into powder and brushed on her cheekbones. My hair would not be a hummingbird’s nest. My mind would not have to move so fast to rest.