And we were Banksy on an overpass in New Orleans spray-painting porch lights on the hurricane. We were welcome mats for the un-forgiven. We never sold our windpipes to make a living. We were the letters sent to the wrong address, but opened anyway. We opened anyway.

What Gods do you believe in? I'll build you a temple of mirrors so you can see them.

We all have bullets beneath our skin we pray our lovers won't flinch at when they find.

I don't have a single plan for my life more important than learning to love people well.

I am living today as someone I had not yet become yesterday and tonight I will borrow only pieces of who I am today to carry with me to tomorrow.

For Halloween I'm gonna be emotionally stable. No one's gonna know it's me.

In your arms I forget what the yarn knows of sweaters. I forget how to hold myself together. So if I unfold now like a love letter tell me you'll write back soon. Tell me you'll still come untethered.