An alternative?

I suppose.

I don’t know, we all have lungs

I’m blurred around the edges, like

Plastic.

Pretend for a moment

We have an impact, I’m an impressionist painting

Picasso isn’t for everyone.  

No, I’m only grey and please don’t

Touch me

It’s amazing to learn again

That there are two hundred and six bones in your body.  

That shirt, it

Reminds everything of the hummingbirds

Back in my imagination, my home, and

Here.

Inhale, exhale, enter, exit

What’s your choice, although we never

Had any honey at the house?

My sweetness was tree sap and

Rotten porch steps.

No, no, that isn’t peculiar, this is

You fool, you’ll only

Pop all the blue balloons

What is wrong with you, honey

You don’t spill from lips like

Melted glass, you stick and pull and push and manipulate

My tongue is red, and feathers

Are broken.

And life has such a high pain tolerance

I don’t

Prepare yourself

For silence, I love it.

Just like sunflowers and poppies

No, they’ll pour the oil down my throat

Greasy, slipping, sliding

Their minds are gone, like the whites of their eyes

Yellow hair falls to the sky below.

Long, pointed shoes, I wanted to go to the studio

They twirled, spun, I was never

A good dancer

They didn’t like me, oh well.

But I’m in love with

The sky, and silver letter openers

I’ll open and poor myself, too

Grey mixed with blue.

I don’t like it when they ask, I’m perfectly sane

Like there’s no tomorrow, no

Absolutely not

There’s no today.