All the big things in my room are gone down the street; the dresser, the desk, my books. My room right now, wherein I sit, is just as messy as it was, except for now there might be a reason: the movers are coming tomorrow, and all the clothes have to be washed. So I'll sit for now, and wonder, and worry, but not feel anything too specifically hard, because there still are havens, even if I'm moving away from Haven.

Anyways, here are some poems:

Another Poem to Ms. Irish
You big green bird:
I’ll send you off
To the Vegas heights, away
To dance and drink
and kill.

I’ll send you off,
You great green bird,
If only so you’ll think of me once
Beneath that little black dress
While you dance, and drink,
and kill.

-April 1st, 2010

All you give me is war
And I speak nonsense
nothing less, nothing more
but for why and I clamor the pink inky
hollows of my brain
but I don’t really care for searching
So instead I hear beauty
and see beauty
Ulrike!!!
Another wasted piece of grace.
Another wasted piece of love.

-April 5th, 2010