Stranger’s Funeral

In my red polka dot dress
so embarrassing
I’m too Southern for this
I know my manners
now my face is the same
tone of red
ripe summer tomato
where all I’ve been
what all I’ve seen
the more at the funeral
the more blessed she was
he said
and I remember how I was
short shorts in the warm night
his burning, needy eyes
I knew
next to
I was
next to
I’m super sorry but
I keep making mistakes
so I need to run away
and stop finding
these kinds of places.


The Chemical Components of Bravery

I don’t belong any place,
though any place will take me
for the time being,
one day,
I’ll meet my match and
I’ll learn how to stand
still, until then
I’m just pure insanity
innocence in calamity,
fingers ruffling
the hair of some boy
that barely knows me
for me,
don’t assume
that just because I write
I’m anything but this
drifting figure
holding your body
over your head
and yet
I’m actually so much
more than judgement
of your behavior
your boyish, laughing eyes,
but I’m afraid
to admit it,
so tell me
that I’m brave.