I held my chin up too high again.
I should have learned from my grandmother;
She never did learn.
I was born needing to live
While everyone around me was dying.
Through every struggle, I tried rebirth -
Over and over and over, trying.
But I would never have been born once
If it weren't for my mother's stubbornness.
I should have learned when she fought death,
I should have learned from her endurance.
I was hiding, crying, trying to forget the occurrence.
How can the chill of a stranger's eyes break me like weak glass
While my mother smiled through cancer?
I was never a very good dancer.
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 12:42 PM UTC
Often, when
Lying in the grass and
Staring into the sky
I've thought surely I
Might fall
Right into the blue and
Leave the earth behind.
Just in case
Gravity reverses itself
Remember to
Lace your fingers through
Green blades of grass,
Curl them tightly and
Never let go.
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 10:05 AM UTC
There you found her
A child asleep among the stars
No one can touch her
No one can hear her moving parts
Her beaten heart
Here you have her
She cracks open dreaming eyes
Stars fall around her
Her ears awake to distant cries
Her heart's demise
And there you'll leave her
A now sentient, helpless being
No one to feed her
No one to sing her into the deep
Go back to sleep
Go back to sleep.
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 10:01 AM UTC
Us?
We are as our father.
Our blood is filled with fighting,
Thick with trauma,
Touched with love.
Our hearts pump three ingredients
To stir one strange elixir.
From the blood grew a figure,
Distorted and hungry.
We threw silver to bind it down,
Only to find that it had bound us first.
When the links shatter apart
We recognize we cannot chain the beast.
This beast born from blood does not know how to stop
The all-consuming blind rage, the only thing it sees.
So, like our father,
We had to master the spell to calm our spirit,
To remember what is behind it -
Ourselves.
Never forget that.
Of all important lessons here,
Number one is this:
Passion must have a cause
Or you can smell the wood burning for miles.
Passion lights fire to buildings,
Bridges,
Whole cities of those we love.
Passion must be put to work
Or it is a force of destruction.
Don't allow yourself to walk through desolation
Or let the ashes of what you would have once died for
Now speckle your hair.
Without reason, blood and spirit,
You make the ultimate sacrifice.
Because of this, we know:
We are the children of
Angels and demons
Here, we pay the price.
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 9:48 AM UTC