I feel low
Low down.
Sunken into the ground
My body weeps,
seeps,
On the floor
a **** carpet, slimy tendrils;
engulf and smother me. Please.
Fill my ears,
Cover the irises.
Coalesce, a bodybag - zipped tight.
It’s alright.
I don’t want to feel
Low.
Low down.
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 6:38 PM UTC
As a periwinkle twilight descends upon the neighborhood, the eyes of the homes near me lift their sleepy lids.
The metal below my body cools and comforts as the fingers in my peripheral tenderly stroke brown flaky shards from its surface.
In the distance, the highway coos it's nightly song and the crickets respond
rapturously, a motorcycle flies by.
Im too high
up for the bugs to find me.
I savor the street’s gentle curve
and think how the light grey pavement might be soft and soothing after all.
A bat freefalls, snags a current of air on my left
I hope that this fire escape doesn't fall
~~
8-14-17
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 9:34 AM UTC
I want to be inside of you.
Let me see myself
with your eyes.
Hear music
with your ears.
enjoy food and drink
with your tongue.
and
find out what the color
pink looks like to you.
I want to--
draw with your hands,
smell with your nose
and
love with your heart.
but I can’t.
Instead,
Tell me what you love about…
your favorite dog, that tree, the
restaurant we haven’t been to yet
and your baby sister.
Show me what it means
for you to explore.
Get close to me.
Run your fingers across my collarbone,
through my hair and down my face whilst
explaining what you feel -- inside and out.
Talk to me endlessly.
My mind, body and soul ache
for your acknowledgement.
Give me your lips and I
may taste you.
Give me your thoughts, your dreams, your fears and aspirations and
I will
taste you.
So fear not on days when not every brown-blonde strand is in place.
Come to me with mascara doing a melancholy dance around your face.
Come to me with your eyes reddened by salt.
I want to see what you see.
Even if it is a little blurry.
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 1:19 PM UTC
My brown leather boot disappears into the
white, downy crust that covers the earth.
A few hundred steps later and I find myself by a pond--
a frozen halo caressing the edges, suddenly broken by
a heron taking flight.
Cardinals play in the branches above the water.
Thorned trees, the names of which I am uneducated on,
drop clumps of snow on my head.
My notebook is soaked; the ink, now in spiderwebs charged
by the water, s(preads)lithers to the outermost bounds of the lines.
I am happy.
I begin to step in the opposite direction of the lake, making my
own personal perforations in the snow.
I happen to find myself on a road.
Step, step, step, step. Up over a hill.
Is that the ghost of Thomas Merton that I hear, venturing alongside of me?
No, I suppose not. It’s the sound of silence broken by the beat of my steps.
A puppy approaches me, dragging its owner along. I give it a pet, admire its
fox-red fur, and then we part.
I hear an engine start and the scrape, scrape, scrape
of a brush against a window.
I venture past four cows, who somehow find grass to graze on underneath the thick,
white powder.
Around a curve, over train tracks, each tie causing the snow to ripple.
Across a bridge, over a creek and into the snowy hills of Kentucky I go.
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC
There's a beauty in darkness that isn't always noticed.
When you become void of one of your senses,
when the water of sightlessness hungrily rushes your lungs, and you acclimate yourself to the fact that the fear can only last for so long,
you will be freed from the burdens of sight.
From the overbearing pictures of the outside world
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 9:26 AM UTC
Sometimes I like to play with fate. I slip the lenses from my eyes...
Sometimes, when the circles of light are all I can see, I cross the street - letting mother universe decide my demise.
I haven't ever had good depth perception
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 9:19 AM UTC
I am unsettled. Downtown at night confuses my eyes. All the bright lights make me feel drunk when I'm, truthfully, sober. Water drizzles down onto my exposed ears and neck, covering me with shiny, wet goosebumps.
A train Rolls by.
I can't stand up straight so well.
The shadows act differently when it rains, too.
I love downtown at night.
Especially when it rains. I am filled with a sense of contentment. Why?
-I step in a puddle - ****
something about the halo of the green light around the traffic signal. Something about the shine off of the street, like a slick mark on some man's lightly scuffed, yet new, Doc Martin makes me feel
-The water is through my sock now-
happiness.
Soft shapes jump at me from around every corner - every crevasse in the pavement harbors another spawn of the deepest purple.
The bright lights make the rain look like snow
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 9:17 AM UTC