all the happiness i could have had
feels like bubbling now.
i promise i’ll leave any child i have nameless until it speaks—
i will call it only by identifiable human traits,
and we will make a language of closeness or farness together.
our very own lexicon,
saying things like,
i like mirrors with flower print on them.
my planner has birds perched on wires on the cover.
i was born in the desert on the last day of summer
five days after my mother’s 30th birthday
coming in sweaty with tears, i have always been the end.
the last time i planned, if you look, was january.
this is all laid out–
these are the traces and how things will seem.
Carmen E Brady is a bag of tears and drunk tweets zipped into a human costume. Her writing has been on pieces of paper and internet websites like Shabby Doll House and Electric Cereal. She is the end of youth on twitter @therealcbrad, and is a dispassionate cup of tea at dispassiontea.tumblr.com.