haiku 'bout missin' you

someday I'd like to
whisper that I love you in
your ear and mean it

so home sick, sick, so sick of home so
tired i could sleep for daze and days
and dream of all the ways i could leave i
wanna leave gotta leave gotta leave

talking to yourself in public (for m.)

I used to have a therapist
with a tray, a kindness
what did we speak of?
were there solutions?
but I remember sticking toybox fodder
and statuettes into sand

sometimes you don't have to look
for blueteeth, you know? you know
especially when aggravated
maws flex and teeth grit like
there's sand in a crevasse
unreachable by fluoride

when you look at your watch tomorrow
if it makes you happy or sad or anxious
or tired or hungry or startled or excited
or sedate or bored or resentful or wtv.
just, like, you know,
              don't panic.