entry 2/26/26

Tonight I will shower one day I will eat / I would rather buy a new book and go hungry / a fight to stay alive let alone live well / but if by being good we think we’re better we’re not very good at all / I make it a goal to pile up the rejection letters / if pride were a tumor you’d have to dissect this whole body / I remind myself a change in scenery won’t eradicate the envy / rearranging the house won’t erase what happened there.

I pray to offer my daughter a life she doesn’t need poetry to survive / polaroid of you as my bookmark / I remember the offender is my brother too / the darkness that lives in him lives in me lives in you / it takes eleven plants to tell me growth is slow and incremental / I sit in father‘s coffee-kissed gray sweater / unsure of what to say next.