Yoja, brojas.

what if:

jessr:

  • what if when you cried, flowers grew under your eyes into your sad sleepless skin baggies
  • what if when you cried, little oceans pooled in there instead and whales came out of your eyes too and they lapped up the water and then blew right back into your face because that’s what whales do
  • what if when you cried, it’s really just all the raindrops your eyes have ever silently betted to victory down windshields and passenger side windows
  • what if we’re all chamomile
  • what if scary lumps were actually just balloons inside your body
  • what if biology is just a party in your body
  • what if my professor is a hologram and that’s why she canceled class today
  • what if providence ate my professor and that’s why she cancelled class today
  • what if my professor is made of the light from inside lightbulbs and going out in the snow would freeze her into the incarnate of the pop from a camera flashbulb that also looks like the explosion inside of an icecube when you don’t distill the water it is made of
  • what if the scary lump balloons were filled with knives
  • what if my parents’ old home is a swollen node in the middle east’s armpit
  • what if it’s trying to pop itself before others get to do it and claim the confetti for themselves
  • what if it doesn’t know the confetti is actually knives
  • that knives are actually the explosion inside balloons inside your body when you try to distill the aquarium you are made of
  • what if this country is trying to fool itself into thinking pain is a party and martyrs are dispensable like compostable spoons and fig wrappings and phosphenes
  • what if lebanon pushes its kids to be scientists because it’s got fucked up biology
  • i wonder if it knows this is not its fault
  • but sometimes it is
  • i wonder if it knows to do well in biology you have to pay attention in history
  • what if my parents’ old home is flashbulb pop trying not to set itself on fire
  • i wonder if it knows it didn’t start the fire
  • what if when the cedars cried, splinters grew out of our fingers
  • would that make our fingers martyrs?
  • would our fingers be dispensable?
  • what if we cried chamomile cried oregano cried anise cried olives cried oil cried wood chip cried whales wanting to escape on the air from our tongues but they settled for the eye pockets because this is supposed to be normal, we don’t cry
  • we spit
  • fire
  • and then we cry
  • ?