Some nights I look up at the stars and see art.
I am struck by wonder and awe.
Their glow fills my heart and every crevice of my soul.
I search until I find the shape of two shining eyes and a smile in the disconnected dots.
I talk to that approachable yet unknowable face,
And strain to hear any whispered words it might return.
I see lighthouses in the sky.
I see a reason to stay alive.
Other nights, I look up and see simply spheres of gas.
Hydrogen and helium.
Lanterns destined to burn out and die,
Along with all the lights and lives below them.
Blindly surviving in a vast space that is too dark And too empty.
Mindless chemicals endlessly reacting while we Twist them into purpose and prophecies,
Empty promises.
But every night I look at the stars, I can’t deny their beauty.
Nov 1, 2019
Nov 1, 2019 at 11:25 PM UTC
Another day
My head is hidden in the clouds and my feet are far above the ground
I can pretend I’m safe in an ocean of blue as long as I don’t look down
Deep inside I know I’m drowning
But I left all hope of help somewhere in the speckled lights of the city below
Or is it above?
I’ve lost all sense of direction
My internal compass spins in frantic meaningless circles
I’m paralyzed and I feel it getting harder to breathe
But if I shut my eyes I don’t have to watch the light vanish into thin air
My thoughts are confused
Past and future blur and fade like photographs from another time
Memories and dreams dissolving behind my closed eyes
Until only the present remains
My energy and motivation wax and wane like the moon floating somewhere above my head
I’m tired
But somewhere inside me I find the strength to swim upwards
Towards the sun shining in the lights of the city below
Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019 at 10:20 PM UTC
I think there’s a place for us
Sometimes I hear a whisper of a wormhole that will take us far beyond this broken galaxy
To a place where the static has ceased and no longer bruises our brains with noise
A place where our cities are safe and strong with skeletons of steel and faces of glass
A place where we fit comfortably in our own skins with no effort or shame
A place where shooting stars no longer dance out of reach but sing in our hearts
I think we could get there some day
Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 9:39 PM UTC
Once again I feel like I’m not enough
Once again I feel the pillars of my identity being shaken like trees
Will their roots hold them firm and steady in the soil?
Or will they topple with a crash onto the unforgiving ground,
Leaving my carefully built structures to crumble into ruins?
Thoughts swirl around in my head like blades,
Their sharp edges dangerously close to nicking vital arteries that keep me alive.
But somehow I always survive.
Meanwhile, the world continues spinning,
Oblivious.
I try to ****** the blades out of the air as quickly as possible,
But each one rises again as soon as my back is turned,
An army of undead soldiers hell-bent on consuming my mind.
Still, I remind myself that this apocalypse will not be the end of me.
Though natural and unnatural disasters may shake my cities,
Through fires, floods, and famines,
I will continue.
When my foundations are all that is left standing,
I will build up from the bedrock until I can see new horizons from my tallest tower.
I may watch the blood-red sun set on yesterday,
But I will see it rise again far above these ashes.
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 9:59 PM UTC
As my space shuttle touches down on earth’s familiar territory
I find I have become more alien than human
Through my journey in the seemingly infinite darkness
I recognize the faces of friends and family
As well as the landmarks of my childhood
However as I remove my helmet, the fresh air feels foreign in my lungs
A language barrier has also erected itself in my absence
My words only result in confused glances
An invisible forcefield thicker than the atmosphere prevents my meaning from landing
Silence has become my method of speech
My native tongue doesn’t rest comfortably between my teeth and lips anymore
I try to remove my bulky battle armour of glass and fabric
It has shielded me from the assault of emptiness
And the weapons of rock and ice that quietly aimed and fired at my heart
Cloaked in shadows and stillness
I find that it is more difficult to remove than I imagined
But I cannot truly return to where I belong until I let its weight fall from my shoulders
And so I must
The steadying anchor of gravity calls me home and I must obey
Aug 2, 2019
Aug 2, 2019 at 5:07 PM UTC
This is my place of peace
The ocean meets the land after the same interval of time without delay
The steady controlled breaths of a stable planet
The leafy shields of the trees protect me from the fiery glare of the sun
But I still see its light dance across the water in a beautiful ballet of joy
I watch the clouds as they adorn the sky with their abstract art
Red wildflowers sing out through the passive murmur of blue and green surroundings
Their vivid contrast is welcome
There is a stump where I can sit
Where I can read, dream, sing, write, or just be present
There is a stump on either side of me where I can invite a trusted friend or two
To sit with me and appreciate the view
But I know that this place is for me
No one can intrude unless I allow them to
The trees are my guardians
They stand at a respectful distance but never leave their post
I know I’m safe here
I paint this scene to life in my mind whenever I need a sanctuary
Aug 1, 2019
Aug 1, 2019 at 2:39 PM UTC
A sunset sends a gentle wave of gold washing over a beautiful blue sky
The lake mirrors what it sees
Until the wave seems to have soaked everything but the black silhouettes of the trees and land
Time passes and gold fades to a darker blue than before
But now bright white stars flood the seemingly empty space
A firefly sparks wonder as it flashes its message of light in morse code
Frogs and crickets fill the silence with their strange music
As we watch the world change,
We sit side by side and create a multitude of ripples that echo soundlessly towards the horizon
Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 5:39 PM UTC
How do I write my own story
How do I use these margins as a springboard
That will propel my words across the lines of this unmarked paper
How do I shape a mountain out of the scattered boulders littered across this flat terrain
How do I create the spark
That will ignite this dry kindling into a blazing bonfire
How do I stir these stagnant waters to motion
How do I begin to carve this block of stone into a statue
That will continue to speak my legacy after my voice has withered away to dust and ashes
Until now I have coloured within the boundaries printed on the pages set before me
I have created perfectly generic and acceptable images that have brought me praise for my ability
But they were not my own ideas
The outlines were slipped onto my desk by well-meaning adults simply doing their jobs
I believe it’s time I graduated to a blank canvas
I want my colours to blossom across every inch of the space I have
I want to dabble in fiery reds, deep blues, and ultimately rich purples
I want my purpose to be seen in the aim of my paintbrush
I want my worth to be felt in the warm glow of art
I don’t want my paint to fall in aimless splatters
I want to trace the silver lining that has gone ahead of me my whole life
A bright arrow leaving a glowing trail behind
Cutting like a knife through the darkness
But now I see that the seeds of a story have already been planted in my soul
All they need is rain and sunshine, care and time,
Before they will spread beautiful leaves
And reveal an intricate network of branches for all to see
Jul 29, 2019
Jul 29, 2019 at 9:15 PM UTC
Small shoots of new life poke up through the raw earth
The birds’ song can now be heard in the absence of the howling winter wind
Everything that froze and died and was lost through the long cold months
Has been mourned
And now it is time to begin again
Now it is time to let go and live
To plant new seeds of joy and hope
To enjoy the long hours of sunshine that have been so desperately missed
To remove the bulky layers of armour that are no longer necessary
It’s time for the world to wake
For every creature to shake off its snowy slumber
It’s time for every bitter, frost-bitten heart to heal
Such icy emotions cannot sustain their frozen grip in the warmth of the summer sun
It’s time for every tree to feel for its roots and find a foothold in the supporting soil
So it can propel itself towards the sky
And throw its arms up in surrender to its inevitable victory
And though the weather is wild,
I feel the winds of change blowing open the door to a new season
Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 6:30 PM UTC
I may be a mess but that’s ok
I’m just a rough draft
My stanzas may be uneven
My rhyme scheme nonexistent
But I carry the seeds of a masterpiece
These scattered scribblings will someday mature into defined and refined lines
My tiny wriggling tadpoles of thought will grow legs and a voice
They will explore territory they never dreamed existed
This writer’s block will topple off the edge of my desk and fall to the floor with a clatter
My words will burst through the dam,
First in awkward little leaks
But then in strong, steady streams
That leap forward into unfamiliar territory
With a laugh and a gleeful scream
These nattering notes will resolve themselves into chords and phrases
A motif will leap out of the disordered madness
Stumbling steps will lead to confident strides
And the audience will be satisfied
But for now I remain unfinished
Jul 25, 2019
Jul 25, 2019 at 11:04 PM UTC