im sorry your sick
she said to her father
sweetly
apologetic
genuine
beautiful
kind
mine

"you've been," my psychologist said staring into her legal paid, "passed around like a cigarette."

she didnt make eye contact

i nodded in unison with the bird outside the window at the feeder gobbling up the white and black speckled seeds

if i knew what anger was
i'd be filled with it
to the brim
boiling over
like lava
dripping
to rivers
flowing
in pools toward him

i dream in gray and red... loving and ready