the palm trees resist. in the deep blue skies their silhouettes battle the forces we can’t see. the pills negate most of my manic states but my brain continues to rot everything outside of the chaos it contains. my uneven notes create an imbalanced page & i hate imbalance, so i write around the curves of a glass—full of water for the first time in late november as far back as i can remember.

my attempts at a video fall so short of the natural brilliance the air commands. why are we destroying this, the wonder of our life—why do we destroy what we love, what allows our hearts to beat with substance, a sense of meaning, of wonder & belonging. the feeling of fresh air found in the eyes of another.

sit with the wind, collapse in its arms when no one will hold you. listen to the laughter next door & hold hope that someday you’ll laugh again too.