pieced together by
found in the seat cushions
and yellowed tape
peeled from the dust jackets of library books.
ever leaking brain crumbs
get away from me—
find a new crack, they have an
incessant need to escape,
to soar, to bobble
becoming a balloon full of fresh floating-mind-gas—
a head about explode from being too full of everything.
Dane Lyn is a nuerodivergent, genderqueer, educator, poet, and glitter enthusiast with an MFA from Lindenwood University. Find them in Southern California, ridding their shoes of beach sand, loving on their partner, playing music too loud, constructing blanket forts, and caring for their menagerie of teens, snakes, lizards, dogs, rabbits, and cats. Dane’s work often centers on themes of disability and queerness and can be seen in The Dillydoun Review, Riveting Rants, and Imposter Lit, links to which are all at DaneLyn.net