mt. st. helens looks so familiar to me
i know what it is
to be changed on a cellular level,
and always erupting
from a singularity of purpose
because you’re always missing
and i’m always missing you
and even when my voice cracks
looking in the rear view
i see it spelled out like blinking lights
near a railroad crossing
the hole will always feel bigger
than all of the things i put inside
and loving you means missing you
and it erupts inside of me
all day long
Less Than 1%: Surviving My Stillborn 