Moss


It needs the other to exist, 

Like I had needed the Whole Thing 

To Exist, as I Am, 

Like I had needed the wooden jutting, 

Side splintering ecosystem of 

Life? To encumber and enamour me. 


I think about lichen and moss whenever I walk through the forest. They appear to be so delicate but have been around longer than my parents, fighting all possible elements. How did they survive? I romanticise trees, can you blame me, and I romanticise how much species can rely on each other in unspoken bonds. The lichen needs the trunk, the trunk is nourished by the lichen. Underground, they’re chatting over the phone. 


I was lead to believe, 

I held the universe in my hands, 

In a book that I read backwards, 

Slipping fingers into slightly damp pages, 

Grey spots confusing the accents

Provocating a flight to the window. 


The way mould can attach to a surface or float around, dancing innocently proves that they can survive indefinitely.


It never impressed me much, until I saw it such - a little lovely thing I couldn't really touch. 

Does it smell of earth, or is that what I think

Does it smell of green, or does that mean nothing when I’m walking past tree after tree after tree

Tree tree tree tree tree: stop. Look at this.

I see guitar riffs under my skin, happy for you to stay here for as long as you want - my song of the month, my song that flutters under my eyelids as I wash the dishes and look for space for my things to belong.


Green under my nails
ooooh… it is salad. Not moss. I didn’t touch moss.

I wish i had

I wish i wasn’t mad

enough to have to walk outside in the cold to air

my head along the lead fence pressed against my sense of 

restlessness on repeat.

weekend vibes, weekend cries, in the silent stillness of my head which

wasn’t mad, i promise i was fine i just wanted to see the 

moss

a little longer - is that okay with you


No it isn’t you wouldn’t understand. You want to get to the

Finish line, the finish dishwasher tablets are what my mum uses and they 

Are happy, my mum and stepdad. Their dishes don’t get left dirty


And I wonder if I can let go of the fact I never saw moss in shanghai. The trees didn’t grow moss. I wonder why, oh miss Shanghai.

Moss