I dreamt your suicide note
was scrawled in pencil on a brown paperbag,
& in the bag were six baby mice. The bag
opened into darkness,
smoldering
from the top down. The mice,
huddled at the bottom, scurried the bag
across a shorn field. I stood over it
& as the burning reached each carbon letter
of what you'd written
your voice released into the night
like a song, & the mice
grew wilder.-Bag of Mice; Nick Flynn
so, i like to learn and grow like a flower. maybe more like a tree. my spirit animal is an owl. i vibrate. i cross my fingers. i do not know when i will be completely satisfied. i change.
