Plaid runs hot on the roof of my mouth
Screaming and scrapping perpendicular
colors getting more and more confident in their contrast.
I love the red pen
proving there's life in writing
things unfurl and beat like a paper bird
in the wind
that is strong enough to rattle the wind chimes.
I am swallowing the expectations.
and being run by my typos
I want to pull and spit
And then I want rip a bird from my wind chime lungs.