my hair bleeds purple when i sleep

dark, violet, translucent in the way that sausage fat boiling on the pan is

before it touches a towel

in the way that a ghost’s imprint is before fingerprints are left on the kitchen counter

It’s difficult,

The business of learning a new language.

Words slip away from you like a skittish bird

But you grasp for them

And try to give them some meaning.

i screamed into the void until my lungs collapsed,

but she barely gave me a glance when the silence relapsed.

i called out to the stars and they gave me an excuse:

“hey man i’m sorry, it’s me, it’s not you.”

when you click your heels and wish for home, where exactly is it that you go? i packed away all my ambition in manilla envelopes of faded dreams and sent them away to coral reefs so schools of fish a generation after me could learn from my mistakes.