full moon in Pisces

8. it’s not the heat that will get you 

after all 

don’t you know 

can’t you imagine 

haven’t you heard 

it’s the humidity.

6. it sinks under the weight of my attention

pressing into organs 

making me think I’m hungry or that I have to pee 

4. I took a deep breath, Okay 

it feels heavy and wet 

maybe it’s soaked

and it’s either too hot or too cold 

I can’t tell 

3. How can you expect yourself to write about a feeling if you refuse to give yourself the chance to sit with it?

2. it’s dry and hot 

I am clammy and damp 

it should be like an equation 

I feed myself inspiration 

and shit out art

7. but it burns in the way that things do when they’re either much too hot or much too cold

when it washes over me it feels 

like someone cloaked me in linen 

then drenched it in syrup 

Breathable fabrics are so nice in this heat 

they look at me and say 

1. I wanna say it looks like a watercolor painting 

but maybe that’s too ironic or maybe 

all of the moisture committed itself to the background 

and there was none left for the people or the plants or the lizards

and the sun, beaming down, burned everything into a palette so monochrome 

that I learned to appreciate all of the colors in brown 

5. it expands, filling me with a stiffness 

like a frozen water balloon, 

when I pop 

I will shatter  

I wanna say it looks like a watercolor painting 

but maybe that’s too ironic or maybe 

all of the moisture committed itself to the background 

and there was none left for the people or the plants or the lizards

and the sun, beaming down, burned everything into a palette so monochrome 

that I learned to appreciate all of the colors in brown 

it’s dry and hot 

I am clammy and damp 

it should be like an equation 

I feed myself inspiration 

and shit out art

How can you expect yourself to write about a feeling if you refuse to give yourself the chance to sit with it?

I took a deep breath, Okay 

it feels heavy and wet 

maybe it’s soaked

and it’s either too hot or too cold 

I can’t tell

it expands, filling me with a stiffness 

like a frozen water balloon, 

when I pop 

I will shatter  

it sinks under the weight of my attention

pressing into organs 

making me think I’m hungry or that I have to pee 

but it burns in the way that things do when they’re either much too hot or much too cold

when it washes over me it feels 

like someone cloaked me in linen 

then drenched it in syrup 

Breathable fabrics are so nice in this heat 

they look at me and say 

it’s not the heat that will get you 

after all 

don’t you know 

can’t you imagine 

haven’t you heard 

it’s the humidity.