again, what’s wrong?

she lays out

before the sun

& does not know 

why among birds,

motors–a sniffle

comes to her ears.

she turns a question

over with a side, God,

why must i swear i’ve

heard the world mourn?

Author’s Note: when I get alone with my thoughts under a blue sky, fears come into the light. I have this thing where I think someone (when no one is around me) is crying. Sometimes I think it’s Jesus crying inside me. Or interceding with wordless groans I don’t understand.

Most of the time, I think I’m crazy. Or very, very sensitive.

Or on high alert for something not even happening.

Over-active mind. Party of 1. That’s me.

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