LET HER DANCE!

Do you get the movie reference?
Made this video in honor of international dance day last week, enjoy.

Crabapple Heart

my heart was once the size of a crabapple

but she still demanded I kneel whenever I pray

and to never end a disagreement with my parents without saying, 

"I love you"

she used to live behind mountain range ribs, 5th up

but she glitters better when she nestles beneath my cheekbones

or sits on my cupids bow

this way she was better able to remind me that I start speaking louder

and that there's no need to say sorry when there's nothing to apologize for

I didn't say much in the fifth grade

but my heart knew I'd never let my bones rest

had I not took the hand of that boy to show him he did have a friend

she still is disappointed in me for the tests I've cheated on in grade school

and all the years wasted thinking I knew how to heal without learning to

I was taught to sing over gravestone

that there is such a thing as rebirth after being born

she knows I'm in a much better place now and that I've worked really hard to get here

she knows I'm becoming someone very good

I want to dive in and watch oil painted clouds drift in every Millais painting I see

build solar systems and neighboring planets with the people I love most

fill water towers with lavender tea

and walk every dog in the world outside for however long they'd like!

my heart often asks me for things I cannot quite give

when we sat in his volvo, I turned up the radio

so her nervous palpitations wouldn't become the muscle memory to my favorite Fleetwood Mac song

she was asking me for something I believe I couldn't quite give

I tell her, "sometimes it's best to say nothing at all"
but she has never agreed with that statement

despite all the things I cannot give to her,
my heart sure beams whenever I hear Densley play his mandolin in the halls
seeing strangers pay generous tips to their waiters and waitresses

going roller-skating on the school tennis courts during lunch hour

and when my friends dog chooses to sit by me

she knows the value behind telling others how I truly feel

to express how dearly I appreciate things that are good

and opening myself as much as I can
so that someone else might feel less lonely

there is beauty in vulnerability

my heart still demands I kneel whenever I pray 

and to end every disagreement with,
"I love you"

she was never the size of a crabapple

but the quiet yet symphonic song of purpose 

that believes there is important words to proclaim

and hearts to heal

. . .

so let's start at the beginning

and invite one another inside

scar tissue and all

CHILD SERVICES AIN'T GOT NOTHIN ON ME

When I was 6 years old I got onto the monkey bars and could only make it halfway across so I held on and called my dad over to help me cross the other half. So he comes over and extends his loving arms like he's going to help me but instead he de-pants me and I'm still holding onto the monkey bars but pantsless and my dad is laughing at me and I feel this cool breeze pass by so I look down and realize what's going on and think, "ah, good one" and then I start laughing but then the humilation sets in and within about two seconds I transition from laughing to crying and I'm still holding onto the monkey bars and my dad is still laughing at me and the rest of my family/relatives are watching this all go on not knowing what to do because they're good people who have better parenting skills and I look back and although it was awful at the time this experience has helped me better embrace life's many surprises

it me (THE BIG REVEAL)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lkgPbbujwGY

shoutout to Hanna Sullivan and Emily Moyle for helping me produce this film.

Stitching Bees in the Hospital Waiting Room

at age 5, I caught a glow bug in my tin bucket and took her home 

because I wanted to see how she would light up my room

but I woke up the next morning and her glow had gone

that was the earliest encounter I had with death that I can remember 

if I do not live to kiss the forehead of my first born daughter 

I'll send her all my kisses now

I've learned death does not have good timing

but she knows how to show mercy

and to turn pain into rest

I should start buying mom more flowers 

and telling dad "thank you" more often

illness had her grip on him longer than he was holding hands with life

that stretcher didn't seem too comfortable

nor did the tube taking home down his throat

I'm yet to exchange wedding vows in the desert 

and carve my name in red rock

I still don't know every gemstone by name

his bloodlines became obsolete along with his cd collection

the television always radiated warmth

and the pear trees were often forgotten to be watered

I bought myself a 35mm disposable camera several weeks ago 

and I still haven't finished using up the film

grandma gave me his old mandolin

 I don't think I'll ever truly learn how to properly play it

I need to stop being so hesitant of sharing my favorite songs with others 

in fear of them being the reason the music may later leave a bitter taste in my mouth

I still remember mustering up the courage just to touch his toe

I was reluctant because a machine read his heartbeat

and his complexion bargained with white orchids

seeing someone like that makes you take a lot of walks

I'm ready to dance in campfire smoke and rest my head on the shoulders of the people I love

there's more places I'm yet to hike to with no particular destination in mind

there are reasons behind why our bloodlines run south

the same reasons his classical guitar gathered dust

and I sat stitching bees in the hospital waiting room

I don't have to laugh at jokes I don't think are funny

just because it sometimes helps conversations run smoother

I couldn't recall the last time I saw him conscious

nor the last time I saw my dad cry

the clouds swam through marmalade 

it didn't match the mood

but in ways it did

I'm yet to dwell through Petra's ruins

and sign the adoption papers to bring home my first dog

I wonder if the nylon strings on his classical guitar snapped

the same time he passed over at 5:07 that morning

I'm looking forward to the day me and him will meet in perfect health

 I envision him now hugging his mother
exchanging apologies with his father
and singing in gunfighter ballads with Marty Robbins

we will sit with one another and beam about everything we didn't in this life

I apologize to the glow bug I took home in my bucket made of tin

I believe my grandfather is well

and smiling 

because I'm teaching myself to play his mandolin

(My Grandparents, Noriko & Chris)

Embroidering These Fears Only To Stitch Them Out

missed calls

gravel pits

needles

I Want To Sleep In Honeycomb

I’m going to tell you what it’s like to ache for honey

and to have your hips swing around mountain ranges

I go home and practice talking a little louder

my voice is not used to reaching beyond shut doors

I’m trying a little harder

so I'm carrying my speech through canyons

caramel echoes bounce off red rock

I'm learning to not leave my voice behind shut doors

I once knew a boy with an artichoke heart

he taught me that love is not always pink

or reciprocated or understood or exactly what you need

he was not what I needed

I’m waiting for the day I’ll be able to roller-skate on Saturn's rings 

I'm getting tired of lost toothpaste caps

and tipping over mason jars

teeth sinking in sparkling water

I want to sleep in honeycomb

I’ve been kissed by olive branches

stung by bees

aided by angels 

miracles do not shout for attention

rather they wait to be found

thank you, God for planting those miracles in me

for I was what I needed all along

. . .

I no longer leave my voice behind shut doors

so watch me as I bandage my own blood

 brave and bold, brave and bold