Espresso Something.

I’m a bird.
You’re a plane.

Peanut butter cities
Cotton candy skies,
Paper airplanes confuse me.
That why I keep you around.

Dipping my finger into my coffee
to see if it’s hot,
I breathe in the steam.
I laugh about it.

I am so cold.
The shade it cast never ended.
And it was almost like the wind would blow it’s branches off.
But I thought,
you would like it.

I don’t need dictionaries.
I don’t need anything.
Words mean a lot,
but labels don’t mean anything.
Or at least, they don’t need to.

If I’m a lemon,
then you’re a piece of toast.
But I think I’m more like a kiwi
and you’re more like fried rice.
But if one day you need lemonade,
then I can be a lemon.

I don’t want you to think it’s dumb.
Even though sometimes,
I think it’s dumb.

People learn to be people
by watching other people
who are watching other people!

Sometimes I worry I’m not quite a person yet.

People always say you’re really smart.
But I think there’s a lot I can teach you.
I think there’s a lot you don’t know.
And you don’t even know
that you don’t know.
But it’s okay because I don’t know.
And I think,
no body really knows.

I can be asleep.
I can be sitting.
I can be standing.
My hair can be wet.
I can be crying.
I can be sick.
I can be ugly.
I can be crazy.

But you know I’m crazy.