candide-baileyWhisper

American
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HopeI am alone. I was alone then, and I am alone now. I cried alone when my lungs felt the first shock of air. I cried of loneliness. I cried alone to the God I denounced when my father fell ill. We all cry alone. I cried alone on an air mattress, frozen in fear at the sound of the heavy breathing hovering above that woke me up to a friend’s brother turned invader. I cried again when a study session put me to sleep and a tutor had more on his mind. When it was over, in silence I cried. For the reasons I cry, I am not the only one, but the control of my tears is mine to hold alone. And I am out of control, and I cry and I cry because I feel so alone. But sometimes I can’t. Sometimes my heart stops, and my mouth sours, and my stomach tries to escape through my pores. Sometimes I can’t talk and I am paralyzed. And sometimes I smack my head on the bathroom floor after a night of blurring the lines. Sometimes I am lost because I am the only hope.
1
Nov 4, 2013
HappyI found a box under your bed / you seem ashamed of what it said / I covered my eyes, though it's no surprise
15
Nov 4, 2013
all these **** rootsleaves fall like footsteps / left at the scene of a crime / culprit in plain sight
3
Jan 19, 2013
don't wake me upthis body is yours to do with what you please / and if you find your hand is creeping; / to separate the knees
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Jan 19, 2013
in my place?A stock image that shows a loading dock partially covered in sand: / A dock rises from dirt to bridge an entrance / The surrounding lake seems placid upon first glance,
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Nov 27, 2012
A Sculpture I MadeYou lose it slowly, piece by piece. Whatever bit of purity you thought you had left and that last bit of hope for an effortless race. It doesn’t depart from you in some grand gesture. No, no. It is slowly whittled away by the hands of fine craftsmen. Men who saw the potential you held. Some blows are harder to take than others; time is not always patient with what must go. And you are eager to become something new, while remaining roughly defined. But each chip removed is one you will never get back. You may find yourself longing for a small piece of yourself to return, but you will realize that each tear shed is the first and last of that sliver of self you will see. / Each vision of what you would best become is different, so you must not let too many hands work at once. If you are lucky, your own hands will be freed and image left for you to define. But this may take some foolery, as you must first gain their trust. You will find it difficult to willingly let go of some parts, but it helps to envision their reform into something you want more. Sometimes you are wrong, with no one to blame but yourself. And even if freedom is yours, you may find it is easier to let others carve away, but doing this will make you a foreigner to yourself. The harder you are to form into their desires, the less interest they will have to do so. Only then might you truly be forced to decide for yourself. Only then might they be surprised with what they didn’t know they could find beautiful.
2
Nov 9, 2012
sharksyour love is like rain on a summer day / at first refreshing but leaving you wishing / for it to soon go away
17
Nov 9, 2012
Standing StillBefore you know it, you'll find the sound of your roommate's voice while she's talking to her bestie on the phone to be a burgeoning wedge pushing you into retreat. The demands of your work schedule, the hours of studying to be done, the expectations of friends and lovers. They all crowd around you with their false promises of offering a new path, a light of some sort. But in reality they only hover over you with the disparaging lens of a magnifying glass, while blinding you with a searchlight intent on finding remnants of the person they once knew. The sun used to come through in patches and shine down on you in spontaneous beams, but now that flicker is gone. Now you cannot even remember what natural light looks like. You cannot see any path to what you once longed for. Your options and advances dissipate like a sugar cube resting on a tongue; the sweetness of solitude soon gone. This wall they have surrounded you with, under the pretense of comfort, has turned into a treacherous mistress. What was once the pillow that absorbed the weight of your head is now the force blocking your vision and airflow, as you suffocate underneath its weight in exchange. You'll find yourself cowering in a corner with a noose around your neck, the tension so strong that any attempt to move away will only sever your life as you know it. Any movement at all will only tighten the hold. So you must stand completely still.
1
Aug 21, 2012
it's not easy to love you anymorea seed planted grew / but the petals fell that bloomed / swept away by change
3
Mar 10, 2012
Current FlowWater, it spreads so thin / That the fish have nowhere to swim / Sunshine, it tries
33
Jun 10, 2011
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