I'm not sure exactly, what steps you take to get to where calm is

not sure if you've ever been there at all really

maybe closer to the lonely nights when mama's not around

when all you could do was look at stars and hope that his ghost wasn't behind, watching you.

but I'll give you a tip

calm is a stillness and you are the opposite

a deep restlessness shakes the very core of you

even the tremors in your fingers fidget we both know that you will never be still

there is too much world going on for you not to be

but still

I'll give you a tip.

look up

there is painted sky over a green meadow. the green isn't too green its more dulled, a bit tangy. But never mind that you'll focus on what's above it.

the sky overhead is the blue you've always wanted it to be and the clouds are fat and rolling in groups.

watch them,

they're moving slow

look close

in that cluster you see a plane, maybe

Focus let the skies shift your body

and (breathe in)

suck all this scenery up into your lungs let it swirl into a smoothie of mist and dew

take it into your chest

be calm girl because you're allowed to,

take a look at the things you've passed before and the things you weren't tall enough to reach

and

things,

all types of the matter

ebbing out of your ears in form of thoughts that you were belt bruised over thinking

I want you to

stand up and

speak them into existence

but calmly

have you ever seen a lady bug move so slow or so close before it flew away? vivid and so closed in that you're seeing the minuscule orange lines on its back

it's scars you thought were always black and round you're close enough to count them

but you are cheek pressed to arm pressed to window sill no more

and the sky isn't twenty stories above that

you've swallowed it

you exhale a cloud

you've sewn yourself into the ground

you've become one with the green

and soil stained had never been a stain

a permanence

a home

and

have you ever seen a lake so crystalline it fractures sky and sea salt blue in toe step—in tow with what song was playing on that boys radio?

you like him and his glossy summer brown skin and the way sunny water sprayed drops glist on his shoulder blades

but calmly

in the way you like the wobbly bellied tangerine cat that belongs to no one and the easy breath air that lakes and forests spread over the town

there's an ambience of good set aside especially for you and you pick and eat at it like the bowl of sweet fruit dad brought for you

there's a yellow taste of knowing self in the mustard bathing suit you wear and your shea buttered hair

you've made a spot in sand that fits perfectly

your braids whip round when he asks you to play with him

and you smile because he reminds you of the goofy junkyard boys that Fat Albert would play with

so you dust sand off the back of your thigh and you ask your father and he asks the boys aunty and there

there is a rise of bubbly young friendship from the gut, the pink gum chewed in hot heat 'lean on me' kind of movie magic in the sloppy grins you throw at each other

and all of this is great or whatever but girl, don't get too excited. there's only so much of that air to go around before your belly gets too full of it.

stay calm I tell you.

this is more a warning then a help.

_

hey hey the endings pretty crusty if you guys have a better way of doing this? lemme know pleeease?

I'll change it