summers are places

i just had to turn up the music to block out the arguing couple in the street, young loves with nasty tongues. self destructive driving, insufficient appreciation. a nation of entrepreneurs . my mom and i used to joke that the reason the cats would only go outside at night was because there were less things for them to see and be scared of. she collects blue glass. i filled a blue vase for her birthday with yellow flowers and put it in between the blue glass salt and peppers shakers centered by the four blue placemats, and not placentas like text edit automatically replaces on my father the provider's new macbook. i used to say everything blue was beautiful, but now i'm more likely to wear purple. around the fire, which i was so close to my outer layer of skin burnt off: Do you believe in god? the mother who used to be a whore asked and i said no but i believe in good and am trying to live my life dedicated to love and compassion but this makes no sense to her she is far too caught up the details because she needs a base of artifact and examples but we find beauty in the metaphors and only look for the soul in things. we have felt like gods we have treated every new experience as an opportunity to learn something new about living it is thanksgiving everyday and we always enjoy the joy when we love we value another beings happiness above our own and we love all good people we meet and we do our best to output our joy but sometimes we succumb to anxiety

i could not tuck away my anxiety and i knew it was all in the back of my brain and plus everytime i looked in a mirror i saw colors pouring out of my face.