sigh

back home is a place i sometimes miss
until i am there & i watch the corn fields
& the talented people i confused for friends
they’ve long forgotten me now i was different
too afraid to talk too afraid to not i was my own
maze & then there was the rest of them who
are talented people that i confused for friends
this is an identity i did not mean to have
the sun’s thick but gentle warmth on my
face on my arms & legs eventually burning
into sweat claustrophobic &
anxious for any
where else

i thought i would miss you all
occasionally i do

i fed a flower-faced bison my

hands disappear into picking
bark off a green
forest of stars

constellations
my veins

for a moment *

i forgot

how to
die