candide-baileyWhisper

American
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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.
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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.
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Insert MoneyJust once I'd like to be useful / Without feeling used / Every town brings the same sadness
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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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SymmetryWhat is a flower / If not for its pollen / What are leaves
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well-put-together messI want to take everything I've learned and then form it into words and everyday I'll change and tweak, arrage the letters too true to speak. but i feel more like a caterpiller crawling to the new day that is dawning in search of a branch worth something so complex as its only chance to make a cacoon. let fear ensue. i'm afraid i have rushed it and emerged too soon. i find it is not quite a flight i've opened up to, and they aren't quite wings but they'll do. / the truth? / its not a rose from the tennis court crack but it grows next to the broken beer bottle that is not quite a diamond but still sparkles in the sun. and even if it's forced, it's still a smile at it's worst-- making itself the truth when the day is done.
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sharksyour love is like rain on a summer day / at first refreshing but leaving you wishing / for it to soon go away
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China CabinetShe wanders. / To herself, / Imagines a cup
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HappyI found a box under your bed / you seem ashamed of what it said / I covered my eyes, though it's no surprise
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Current FlowWater, it spreads so thin / That the fish have nowhere to swim / Sunshine, it tries
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