United States    1992 -   
This is me.
This is me.

It was soft at first
the sound of cotton, pulled
across cedar floor. Sacred.
Fragile words we whisper
mostly so we no longer have the
burden of sheltering them ourselves.
It was, the petals of parsley--
just before the setting of summer
dips below the horizon. A breeze
will send them away.
For the time being.

It grew louder.
I knew not how long it had been increasing.
No longer careful, no longer respectful
of the night. It ached. In suspense it gazed--
through the screens in our speech
through the bend of our knuckles
through the curve of our sight
It ached.
I knew not how long it had been increasing.
Only that I had been there all the while

Over time
the paint on the walls remained
gently the clock was reminded of the hour
drops sizzled and slipped through
hairlines in humidity
the bed frame celebrated 2 decades
Not once did the door open in surprise
Over time, it was like it didn't exist at all.

At last
the age of guessing was at a close
cool tiles against the jaw. low. heavy in
the steamed aftermath of dawn. Forgiving.
The release of tape from the roll--keeping it all together
A hiss from the nose, crunched by the swift turn on the heels. Endless.
Reckless. Reverberating around the space of your lawn, bending
the blades, breaking the stems of weeds.
At last.
It had nothing to do with listening close enough
and everything to do with experiencing it.

Megan McClain
Megan McClain
Oct 12, 2014

I said so many times
that it would be useless
I already knew the answer
knew the lack of interest
avoidance; helplessly shrugging off; taking off
such a pointless question
it lingers on my face, in my skin and I was
all clean in fresh socks so in the morning it looks renewed
but its the groggy feeling I can't clean the lingering stench of the
answer that fouls my personal space the unbelievable stabbing of the words you leave behind you leave alone you leave unformed it brings within a sea sickness that leaves me blind with vile headaches and bloated with excuses such a pointless thought avoidance; helplessly closing in; standing ground I hate the twinge in my stomach when I lock up for the night closing off all doors to the bitter soot the wretched trash I keep getting it all over but it smudges into the others leaving a trail of something I pretend doesn't exist even though everyone can see it (I can see it) so I heave a couple excuses to the wind and hope it blows through everyone hell I hope it doubles back isn't it time I believed it too and I know that if it wasn't for the 2% milk there wouldn't have been enough reason to come by there's never enough reason but it's the same thing I keep telling myself today you'll get through and tomorrow you'll get through and the day after that you won't have to just "get though" it will feel renewed as fresh as my clean skin and the disturbed air at your side will revisit a prayer and later I can thank God for the milk
I said so many times
that it would be useless
at least you can have your cereal
and move on

Megan McClain
Megan McClain
Jun 17, 2014

its not all bad
sometimes I'm lost in the fog
trapped in the endless stream of blur
the hope seeps out with the reason

still darling I seek the edges
where clarity leaks into view
bringing with it the possibility of
real freedom and simplicity

I know the world beyond
full of prayer, relentless confession
I catch myself wishing to stay undefined
I catch myself wishing

Have you ever set foot across
lines set for the point in life when it all
comes together. I wave over my shoulder
there 's always something left behind

shifts in the wind keep
the trails an impulse, thump thump
we are leftover wisps
sipping on the dream that one day
we won't have to float away to fly

Megan McClain
Megan McClain
Jun 17, 2014

it isn't as soft as you would imagine
the pull of fabric, the simple hums
yet it does separate me from
the fantasy

the fantasy is always deep
repeatedly warm, protective against the open room
it keeps me together, even when
you don't

you don't always see
when I hide in the pillows, I promise to stay
I regularly wonder, would you do
the same

the same rocks pour from your mouth
a bitter shot of memory and hard places
I swear once I caught a glimpse of
the better you

the better you exists in my hands
when I run them through your hair
nuzzle down.down.down.downright hard to get
up again

up again at the crack of dawn
I know you work hard for your bills
just remember the cup
won't lie

won't lie?
I wouldn't say that, have you ever...
strangely I trust you, even when it seems
I shouldn't

I shouldn't doubt your hand in mine
yet it's much too disappointing
when I reach for some assurance and you
fall short

fall short of the finish line and
nothing really happens, you just go home
of course you gave it your
best shot

best shot, neat knot, limp plot
barely caught, never taught, simply thought
surely ought, fully wrought, sadly got
dizzy pot

dizzy pot I will one day know
how to stand up to you and
what it is and what
it isn't

it isn't as soft as you would imagine
the pull of fabric, the simple hums
yet it does separate me from
the fantasy

Megan McClain
Megan McClain
Dec 17, 2013      Dec 18, 2013

imagine me swimming, in a lake oh so fine
whenever I'm in it, I lose all sense of time
deeper I traveled, further I went
I could feel myself changing, twisted and bent

Later I fell, from space to the clouds
so much to see, so many sounds
oh the inspiring delectable sight
I never thought falling would be such a delight

I took my place, in a log touched by flame
the sweet soft embers, knew all it could claim
always I burned, in a night cloaked in fire
alone in cold air, hot with desire

the mornings were busy, I awoke with no ease
my mind was a plague, of unwanted disease
I looked to the window, to quiet the words
yet I only heard humming, of the bright early birds

I began to soon wonder, at the dark ticking hour
Since when did its reminder seem so dreadfully sour?
I stared at its face, concerned and confused
why did each second leave a deep searing bruise?

the weight of the moment, with its tender warm touches
slept quiet in memory, looking more like worn crutches
I was promised such joy, but when and by who?
I swear at one point, this was something I knew

I stepped from the garden, to dusty dirt roads
I have been here before, always burdened with loads
Will it lead me to safety? Will my path have no end?
how I miss the red roses, how I miss my sweet friend

I'll imagine I'm swimming, in a lake oh so fine
that whenever I'm in it, I'll lose all sense of time
higher ill travel, to land I will go
I can feel myself changing, a new garden will grow

Megan McClain
Megan McClain
Jul 22, 2013

give me your cure
and the top shelf blue velvet
its mine
and I'm not well

I know the feel
of bikes
balance ; focus
I notice I ride
in circles

I hide in sweet sonnets
a toothache for charm
a rush behind my eyes
raw sugar

penpal promises
sealed late in the night
I told God He could have me
if He paid for the stamps

hands crossed my eyes
in a desperate attempt
to keep me away
from the truth

I never peaked
not to stare not to know
I'd rather walk the line

Megan McClain
Megan McClain
Jun 27, 2013      Jun 27, 2013

what are you thinking
at this very moment
no really
I wanted to know....

I can tell you anything
ok no I can't
something keeps me
from treating you like I treat my best friend
don't get me wrong
you're my best friend
but not like that
I would do absolutely anything in the world
for the best friend who knows me

I know I know
the same goes for you
but there are times
when I feel you tug up on the zipper
so I close it tight
sensing it just wouldn't be right
to spill

I want to
just throw it all at you
but your responses confuse me
throw me way off the track
you don't laugh you don't grin
and I know
I'm overflowing with sunny demeanor
into your half empty bowl

You said yourself you aren't happy
not long ago
and I let my oceans flow
while you said
more unimaginables
into my stained shoulder
from the back as you
let me walk out the door
carving canyons
on the way to my car
you were confident then
and I stood--a drained puddle

Do you know
that I think of you
every sun as it rises
every coffee and lunch
every blink every sneeze
every moon as it shines

the summer brings out
my pensive nature
and I want to explore
people's mouths
dip n dots
little bursts of tasteful
words and creation
it happens all the time
but especially in the summer
when my thoughts are the only thing
that could turn cold

They freeze often
too much to thaw
back to body temperature
while I shiver
I always think about glass

and how you put it between you lips
and breathe
how the jungle in your closet
paves the way to the bank
so you can spend less time
in the Subway
I feel sick to my heart
knowing you know
that I hate it

it wouldn't be that way
if it were nothing
but I see it in my sleep
brush it off my skin
wash it in my hair
taste it in my mouth
we both know
its something

I want to marry you
not right now
whoa that came out
kinda fast
don't run away I didn't mean it
but actually
[I did]
[I do?]
did you hear me?
oh nothing

See I watch all my friends
twirl in true love
and I am truly in love
but I can't
if you don't move
with me

what are you thinking
just say it
that chair looks uncomfortable why do we chew gum today I had tea
I work too much my knees hurt I sit too much I hate bees
I love you too and I'm more than a motion I feel and think I feel and think and, well. what was I saying?

what are you thinking
don't hold back
I'm here and I want you
I want you to be my best friend
the one you aren't yet
you can tell me
I'm listening

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