carpe diem

carpe diem

two screens like glasses

framing the desk, 

glow-in-the-dark

sparklers, 

a fourth of july mess.

fireworks in my eyes, 

anemic papers

hugging my skin,

all of us striped over

in careful red pen--

pressed thinly as pursed lips

christening us

wrong, wrong, wrong.

blue post-its, 

bitter reminders

coating my throat 

like mother's 

herbal medicine--

did you check yourself today?

there are no stars

left to wish on. 

why do you cry?

i don't want 

to look anymore.