that bird I saw that couldn’t find a spot in the tree you know the one that inspired this little poem/ blurb 

June 6 2015

I saw a pigeon

struggle to fly into a tree

it kept trying




but it couldn’t find its footing

it would plummet in embarrassment

so it flew farther

and much harder than it thought it would ever have to

and it took the scenic route

and it flew back home

to safety

and comfort

it flew where it was wanted and loved

and the tree would still be there

when the wind settled down

and the branches were ready


ur the poem, take care to edit it when you need

when ur sad you’re meant to make art

and write poetry that lights to way

or shows the darkness to others

or just releases all your emotions into a beautiful and tangible being

but sometimes when your sad the best thing you can do it keep quiet

don’t validate it

just make a doctors appointment

tell them the truth

go see some more doctors

talk to your friends about your feelings

apologise for being so distant

and try to feel love and happiness again while you get better

sometimes when your sad you’re depressed

and sometimes when your depressed

you just gotta make yourself into art

and create your own beauty and light in yourself

people can’t touch it or see it or read it the same

but it feels better and it feels right

pretty proud, pretty sad

i wrote a poem when i was 12 and i was pretty proud of myself

i’m still proud of those words

so edgy and relevant

about race and war culture and the effects of how teens lose themselves in peer pressure

i read it in front of the whole grade

that’s a pretty big deal ya know

i think it was called pretty robots or something

i liked the one on race and war better but my teacher liked that one

i can’t find the poems tho

lost on a computer we chucked about 5 years ago

i guess that means i can just brag about how edgy i am and not have to prove it

or show anyone something that is probably shit

i still write poems and i still don’t show anyone

i just tell people they’re really good and deep and meaningful

but really they’re just sad and i cry whenever i read them

why am i so sad?

anyway, I’m a pretty good poet

i’ll have to show you sometime

Why I Seem No Good 

Jan 20 2015

My head is filled up with useless oddities and novel plots and things to do and that I haven’t done (yet) and song lyrics and confused bits of art history and pictures of maps and animals and pictures and ads I’ve seen and smells I can’t put my finger on until they waft by unexpectedly

My head is an old abandoned grain elevator with too many floors and broken windows and a whole lotta missing floor pieces where the memories and ideas seem to get stuck in A place where the elevator only works when no ones around and the stairs have no railing

Bath time 

Dec 19 2014

Anger was born in me

As was joy and love

But death planted its seed at the same moment life did

And they’ve grown in unison

Collaborating and working on their fruit

Whilst I try to harvest the balance that creates harmony

But I wasn’t born a gardener

I wasn’t born anything,

Just dirt


Jan 4 2015

Like a flower on the neglected side of a mountain

Waiting, but not wilting

Withering and shivering in the thin air

Deprived of what it never knew it could want

Like a flower

But not a flower

For a flower has no wants, only needs

No matter where is grows

A flower will always spread its seeds

(and that is hope)

Breathing too little

Air too thin

Lungs too small

Slight tremble as she holds the page of her will

The one she wrote after a long walk

Emotionless as the words that flow

Death is never too far and she is never too careful

Death is never too careful

She is never too far

Faint as she thinks of the great sadness within her

The one that she suppresses until the tea goes sour

When the bath runs cold

Until the stars disappear


Of when the sun bursts and space takes it back