”What do you mean by North?” I mean …what is never actually said. Things like I miss him and he’s never coming back. Things like I’m too far away from home or sometimes I’m just afraid to sleep by myself. Braveness makes me feel weak. I’m never too tired to think about myself. To mirror myself. I find windows and people to be enough. I keep making mistakes, but I never truly punish myself. It’s not about being sad. Bushwick, slim cigarettes, cheap rum. Slim cigarettes and cheap rum in Bushwick. Peter Pan and all those people in between. Spilled a drink, broke a glass. I can’t keep track of myself as a fallen robin.