my brain grasps hungrily
at any word that resembles
inspiration
Starving for a spark, a muse,
a push in any direction
to pull the lyrics out
from the back of my mind
I come up empty-handed
and breathless
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 11:25 AM UTC
These words, I scatter like bird seeds
tossing them to the ground,
little crumbs of my mind,
piecemeal
Hoping to be received by eager mouths
carefully watching each movement
of my hand
as it dances across the page
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 2:10 PM UTC
I’m perpetually fighting
the constant pressure
to capture
the present moment
(How much is mine to keep?)
When all I want is to exist within it,
and let it pass,
as quickly as I realized it was there,
and as briefly as it remained
I can only bathe in it
in the metaphorical sense,
letting these little droplets of time
soak into my skin
with a soft, rose petal fragrance,
the scent of renewal
masking an ever-present fear
that fills these soap bubbles, each neat little "pop"
destroying my rainbowed reflection
stretched across their filmy surfaces
I realize I am only partially attached
to the drain plug of the bathtub...
But that thought escapes me as well,
moving with the water now swirling down the pipes,
***** from my skin and tears
and lost hairs and forgotten dreams,
carrying every particle of my former self
to some unknown grave
So I leave my bones, carelessly, in this empty ceramic shell
and imagine the day that I was born
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 1:25 PM UTC
I feel restless
unstable, unsure;
but surely nearing
some tipping point
that the speed of the top,
wobbling wildly,
prevents me from seeing
[I am blind]
Equilibrium has passed me by;
can I capture it once more?
(a lack of movement
is also a form of balance)
The weight of uncertainty
is enough to knock me over;
Now, lying beneath the trees,
I question all that I am
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
I'm losing my sense of self,
But gaining a sense of confidence
In my ability to accept the fear
It washes over me, suddenly
It falls on me like a blanket, full of sand,
Made of the concrete and asphalt
that touch my face,
fragile bones
breaking
as they hit the ground
I savor the awareness
and clarity of my perspective,
No longer fearing
Emptiness
As I spill onto the sidewalk
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC
I can’t trust my mind...
So I throw myself down the stairs
Standing in front of the sink
My own eyes stared back at me
The mirror was ***** and through the flecks
I saw my self
Where was this beauty?
Sometimes I glimpsed it in dreams,
A stranger with familiar qualities
That I'm ashamed to call my own
But the time keeps getting away,
so I chase and I chase and I chase
Something beyond the sky, beyond the earth,
Beyond what my fingers can grasp at
(These tips get blistered, calloused,
Yet where does my mind hide?)
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
Its been two months
and I can't remember your face
Even in my dreams,
you come to me only as a feeling,
intangible, just out of reach
But I'm not reaching
I'm content to let it slip by
pass away, slowly,
the light has already faded
for the day;
for my lifetime
Dawns taste differently now,
brighter, and sweeter,
with hints of roses, or magnolias,
of lemongrass, and thai basil;
of hope
of all the things I loved and longed for,
yet couldn’t make out
in the dimness of the early day
( in the darkness of your shadow)
Morning sunlight peeks through
my wavering eyelids
and I accept its request,
satisfied
As easily as the seasons change,
your memory lost its colors
gradually, unnoticed by my own eye;
with open arms
I've embraced the new stillness
your absence affords
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
their fingertips leave bruises
reminders of my inability,
born out of fear
[the infant in me slowly suffocates]
I cry, as it does;
but this, too, goes unnoticed
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
Abandonment gets fed
through the hunger of the body,
then turns to steal
from the needs of the heart
Emotion suffocates reason,
silenced
under the nagging pressure
of self-doubt
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 9:39 PM UTC