Look at this tree, man.
The Angel Oak Tree is estimated to be in excess of 1500 years old, stands 66.5 ft (20 m) tall, measures 28 ft (8.5 m) in circumference, and produces shade that covers 17,200 square feet (1,600 m2). From tip to tip Its longest branch distance is 187 ft.
This is my polaroid wall. It makes me happy when I look at it.
Sadness does not turn your world black and white;
it leaves you standing naked on an iceberg
with tangles in your hair and the world
too bright for your eyes.
Worry sets in that someone will notice but everyone is too busy
watching for their own Titanic.
There is nothing quiet about it,
except maybe the holes it makes inside of you
and even those seem to whistle on windy days.
The world yells at you with muffled voices as if you’re standing
in a labyrinth of glass walls and somehow
you’ve forgotten a hammer.
It turns you into a series of nouns, without the adjectives
and without the verbs. You don’t remember
where you misplaced your descriptions, your actions
(under the sink with your emotions and Mr. Clean)
You’ll see others stripped bare like you but it won’t matter-
they can’t save you. All you can do is lower yourself gently
into the swirling water and tell yourself to hold on tight.
Ocean, diver, wall, air.
I hate the way I get when I can’t handle bad news.
It feels like I’ve been an asshole for months.
All I’ve got left are these handfuls of fuck you and man,
that’s never enough.
I guess I’m just down.
I guess I’ll be honest.
I could use you around.