all of these stupid book reports are doing things to my mind
as i wonder about the main themes of my life and character development
and the humanity behind monsters.
have you noticed the way we keep shape-shifting?
i keep on stepping out of shadows and into more definite shapes,
the way echoes fade but in reverse.
i’m sitting here thinking about dawn and conflicting times and
tiny diamond studs,
and i wonder, do you know you make me believe in miracles every morning?
everything is so, so good, except for the parts that are
awful. it’s sort of funny, isn’t it,
how dread and hope wind so closely together?
i’m tied down between wanting to run
and dying to lie still with you and just breathe and be.