poetry reading
went west
and terrible.
with solar.
self-fulfilled prophecy
in the middle of a weak week,
unproductive at best.
sick at worst.
lucky to be dead.
embarassed to be alive.
Thursdays taste like cars
and exhaust.
favorite four-letter word:
hope.
I am not a five-letter word:
shark.
I hope life forgives me.
my fangs are reluctant.
my heart is fragile.