billboards on the highway say that god is here, but they predict a doomsday all the same.

our garden was wrecked by a tropical storm, so we minded the damage, but I haven't seen a flower in days.

i wish i could forgive you,
but i was never taught how.
mom made me a monolith of grudges,
and that's her sin to bare.

you asked me once what the flood felt like, and i wanted to tell you that it felt like life. the flood felt like flying and falling, and felt like love. i wanted to tell you that i forgave the clouds that day, for doing what they had to do.

but i told you it was death,
because i am a selfish girl made of selfish bones who wanted something for herself for once.
the flood was mine,
so chase a blizzard.

i wish i could give you a better reason,
but my narcissism explains all my faults.