Live jazz in the airport
A chicken salad for lunch
Feeling the weight of our privilege
I discipline my mind:

“This too, will pass.” “Don’t give yourself too much credit, nor berate yourself either.”

I imagine
That sweet music born from sorrow
Now falls on spoiled ears
In a world full of inequality
So personal in my youth

Others have had it worse
I think
I should be grateful for my struggles
The lowest among kings
Is after all, still a king

But the bitterness remains
Lending a sadness to this moment
Spoiling the salad a little bit
A young girl wants to heal

Dreams, Virgo, Assuming the best

How others construct poly-dimensional
Dream stories
For you to walk into through the front door
This is who I am and what I want
Create it with me?

On how so many setbacks were made visible today
The Universe’s way of welcoming Virgo and her ever-perfecting vocality

In the age of information,
People might be less confused about how the stars affect man
And man affects each other
It’s easy to confuse the space between objects for something impermeable
But now that information bounces through us more quickly our pea brains will catch on, and might explode from the overwhelming ness of it all

To do my best to assume first that others are right and not wrong
Tired of my judgementalism
Just ego singing an old song


By dreams realized early
And the state of not-knowing
Continuous risk-taking

Of the illusions that charm strivers
At their lowest points
I became an illusionist

Not to misalign my energy
With causes I can’t commit to
A friendship worth more than

My weaknesses exposed
I put myself in a position to fail
And lived with its bitter

Of what the future holds
There is no more yellow brick road
We’re grown-ups now

Open and Weird

Long days and strange times
Are you really listening
Do you care
Remembering a time when consciousness was altered
Highlighting the absurdity of polarity
And wondering how it is
That people could question
How goals lead to dreams
But of course they do!
Intention gathers momentum
Words guide direction
Thoughts become things
That’s the nature of nature
This year I got my love, my salary, and New York
(Not at all how I imagined I would)
But words matched opportunities
And opportunities are hows
Not whats
You can ask for hows too
If you are particular
So many means to an end
Chances good you’ll find one

Among the Rubble

Taking inventory
Laying out the clothes ahead of time
Asking what I wanted
What I needed
Becoming me
Not having answers
Being lonely
Relying on strangers and the goodwill of God
That dick
Who drives both good and evil
Whose angel fell from grace
And is now stuck in a forever
Ping-pong match
With his creator
The men
Always fighting
The women
Always creating
The children
Who suffer our stories and fear the worst
And spend their years uncovering golden nuggets
Buried among the rubble


Am I ever quiet anymore?
Does quiet feel like dumb?
How do I charge for the time I allow space to grow between my thoughts?

When am I working and when am I playing?
And which is more valuable,
And when?

You have to have the intelligence to understand
That the time I spend away from you
Benefits you as much as the time I spend with you

In that time away, I build stability in my supporting relationships
I create experiences to share with you
I gather insights and make improvements

It all benefits you

Even in the silence
The space between my thoughts

The infinity between my thoughts–
Where the essence of you burns
Like a pilot light

It’s where you exist
It’s where you take on the most importance
Where you are strongest
And most vulnerable

It’s where everything I care about lives
My dreams, hopes, desires, regrets, and unfinished business

The silence is the dark, deep, still pool
Where everything I value vies for my attention
It’s the material from which my stories are born
The essences of millions of interactions
Which define who I am
And who I am becoming

In the silence, I find you
In silence, we are one