Ladybug on the Ceiling

Yesterday, I promised

I wouldn’t cry,

so I bared my waterline

and screamed at the universe instead.

I wilted when

Earth sighed and said,

“Me too.”

Today, I let the tears

have their way

because I saw a ladybug

on the ceiling but forgot what it meant.

I was lost

in a dream when

she whispered, “Remember me?”

Last night, I fell awake

to shadows

and asleep to the sweet lull

of hawthorn and perforated spearmint.

I once saw

holes in the moon

and wondered if it was my doing.

Tonight, I will mourn

the unnamed bits

and pieces of me that have been

lost between necessity and disappointment.

And when the universe

calls my name,

I will ignore it.