the moon has eyes and they look like yours

the first time my heart stopped was when i dreamed my mom dead at five years old

           with her solid black hair
           shining in the lamplight
           from fresh red residue


my heart stopped right now
and i look outside to unusual trees
unmoved in the wind
and i think of myself
and how emotionally
that's probably what i looked like to you;
tired and sad with lines and lines that you might have mistaken for beauty


there are days where i can only see people as their skeletons-
it's nice because everyone looks so alike

but i guess there are people
with prettier or stronger bones

and reasoning with that, i understand
why i don't live my life this way