sky’s set of angel wings –
are they clouds that look like ribs…
one plus one is blood
and one minus one is…
it’s so loud, I can’t hear everything
at once, the yellow is thrumming, insisting…
skin crawls,
they say,
but to me it is the brush of insect wings….
Forgot what I was doing
it was
or was not sleeping…
sometimes
you breathe in the sunshine…
Lights flash,
road reflects –
rain at night
but why does my anxiety
ripple down…
my shoe squished down
on something in the parking lot…
I don’t hate everything…
Daily Poets 