a collection of little poems or the ones that don't belong updated 2/18: grammar

I realized that everything I wanted to find wasn't so amazing as it sat in my palms. I finally understand. I finally understand.

I heard you speak not about me not to me. No, it's never to me. I would just like you to know that I'm listening.

my poor Atlas, do you need empathy?

but we are not circulatory. How maddening.

3 lines. I've taken a quiet liking to this one.

the usage of white space on the page is required for this poem (sadly fp will not allow it)

her lungs bloom as trees and she is afraid. abortion without abortion poem.

she asks the moon who to love, and always takes the stars into consideration

full title: said epiphany: you breathe too much for something so small

old faithful is out of tune, kid, you've never heard silence (now ain't that a shame)

a sequel to fireflies, the anthem you never screamed

the sky must be made of skin to have so many starry scabs ( if she would be heartbroken if she was more than a figment )

a stutter: a flash of skin

a two breath tanka (eh, it's a relative of haiku so it's close enough) not a 5\7\5\7\7 tanka

I may be mad, but I know beauty, like black and white autumn wrinkled in bedsheets, this is and isn't a love poem so it must be fantasy