Poetry

make it happen

09 Oct 2025 • 1 min read

when you stopped talking to me everyday

it was like an iceicle was stuck down my throat

always melting, never melted

then the days became not at all

i could feel a weed growing up my spine

like any moment i could feel nothing at all

filling my lungs with dried grass

like we're back wrestling in the haystacks

we live for the good days

wake up in time for sunrise

like the days where all your misplaced bracelets are right where they needed to be

right when you wanted to wear them

could i make myself whatever i want to be

could i be a dancer by 33

when you can't sleep at night there's nothing left to do but write

and hope these ideas live on in many metaverses

make it happen

ready for this next year to be a blur

there's nothing I love more than a good non exact science

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