One out of seven jobless, Venezuela size statistics, but the Tongass is alive, listen— the wilderness so thick, I could lean into this. No helicopters to spoil, and there’s a part of me that likes to do hard things— like fool myself into jumping off this cliff sixty feet into the drink, blue like a California sunset reflected in a rear view mirror. Hear the birds— if they were words they’d say gimme this, gimme that so & so started it, and I don’t want you to die. Word to your bird baby mama. Oh wild wilderness, why do I love you so fierce? Is it because I relinquish control, is it because you show up in a flooded beaver dam pool where you can’t tell where the tree ends and its mirror begins— the spider web that clings when you least expect it, nurse log kind of love. If it ain’t a good day I’m cryin’, laughin’ and cryin’ at the same time, inhaler in my pocket, mask I’m rockin’ ‘cause it’s not about me this time— no one lives forever. A girl cries every night, she don’t want mama to die, but I don’t wanna let it go yet ‘cause there’s still a part of me that likes to do hard things.
revisionist herstory
😭❤️😘
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