the brightest day


friday i talk to lovesick strangers in bars about you

saturday i try to figure out how I’ve been breathing without you
sunday I put feathers in my hair and jump around in flower fields to songs so sad they could crack walls and old dirt-
on the brightest blackest day God every created

monday i smile and swear off bad habits
tuesday i plant flowers, meditate, and burn sage
wednesday i am writing poetries and watching grief fall from my body like old bruised stems
thursday i think i’ve undone you from my skin

but here comes friday again and again. with its big eyes and golden tongue
kissing me in my sad open mouth.


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