little blue bird told my mama

she can smell the dishonesty on my breath

with every casual

but loaded

exhale, she knows it all.

when she walks into my room

with a praying mat and

a worried

but patient smile;

patient as her daughter

breaks down every


she has so carefully put in place.

tearing away

bits and pieces

of her upbrining

how you raised her

such magnitude and love

but she continues rising above

can’t ask her why

she doesn’t understand, herself

a hug is now accompanied by a sniff

a wish

because maybe she isn’t gone


grassy wet

you know that smell

bad friends and lost nights

not things you can tell

to a person who feels.


the internet

sticks to her breath

hash rolled with desperation

in a pretty white joint

ashing away the darker

parts of feeling


for a more lit life

a choice gone right

so she writes

clutching onto anything

that’ll give her purpose

like words

and lemonade.

she’s crying to her jay

the things she won’t say

out loud.

give her time, dear mama

birds can only fly so far from the nest