You say it’s just drawing
“Nothing to worry about.
Just draw what you feel.”
My hand hesitates
Over the box of art supplies
Eventually, I choose a medium
And place it, unmoving, against the paper
You tap away incessantly on your computer
I haven’t moved a muscle
For several seconds
Yet still I hear your continual
Tap-tap, tap-tappity-tap
As I finally start to draw
I wonder what you
Possibly could have typed
Besides
“Client chose a green crayon.”
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
Oddly, I can’t remember
What I’ve been forgetting
To forget to remember
But surely if it was important
I would have remembered
What to forget...
Right?
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
it's tuesday night
and somewhere i know
another little girl,
drowning in herself,
drags a blade across her skin
just to feel the world
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 12:41 PM UTC
i teeter on the edge
of a jagged cliff
a feather could push me off
and i live in terror of falling
because if i were to lose my balance
i can't promise i would try
to regain it
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
When told to write a sonnet, I must confess
I truly knew not what to write on
Shall I speak of boundless joy, or lament all loneliness?
Shall I compare a rose to death, or they smile to the dawn?
Shall I write in purple words
About that which I hold dear
And let them fly, like nimble birds,
To alight upon thine ear?
I might speak of an endless ocean and call it love
I might speak of a burning city and call it hate
I might speak of peace and call it the wing of a dove
I might speak of many things, but still mine hand doth hesitate
Perhaps I shall not write today
It seems that I have nothing to say
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
What needst I of thee, O precious one?
What hast thou to offer me?
Thou who art a star brighter than the sun,
What hast I to profit from your company?
True, thou art possessed of a great wit
And thou hast a heart most kind
These things might I admit
But what knowledge hast thou of the mind?
What comfort wouldst thou offer in my melancholy?
Wouldst, in my hysteria, thou keep me grounded?
What else but pain wouldst I give to thee-
I wouldst naught but keep thee confounded
A separation 'tween I and thee
Wouldst best preserve they sanity
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
I walked through the valley of the shadow of life
and in the sun I saw
A dog wand'ring in endless circles
withering beneath the sun's cruel hand
crying in the dry tongue of suffering
A snake crawling in rocky shade
unknowing of others' plights
thinking of only himself
A child eating of her own heart
reveling in the bitter taste
smiling through bloodied lips
A cactus standing high above
watching through guarded eyes
hiding what could save them all
I walked through the valley of the shadow of life
and in the sun I saw
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC