the feeling of the weighted blanket
not leaving as you set it aside
a silent morning alarm
gradually fading after sunrise
you question what there is to look forward to
the tunnel's other side
when you find yourself waking every dawn
beneath the dark, heavy sky
Sep 14, 2022
Sep 14, 2022 at 10:37 PM UTC
A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.
Mar 12, 2022
Mar 12, 2022 at 10:13 PM UTC
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.
Mar 12, 2022
Mar 12, 2022 at 10:10 PM UTC
From where I lingered in a lull in march
outside the sugar-house one night for choice,
I called the fireman with a careful voice
And bade him leave the pan and stoke the arch:
‘O fireman, give the fire another stoke,
And send more sparks up chimney with the smoke.’
I thought a few might tangle, as they did,
Among bare maple boughs, and in the rare
Hill atmosphere not cease to glow,
And so be added to the moon up there.
The moon, though slight, was moon enough to show
On every tree a bucket with a lid,
And on black ground a bear-skin rug of snow.
The sparks made no attempt to be the moon.
They were content to figure in the trees
As Leo, Orion, and the Pleiades.
And that was what the boughs were full of soon.
Mar 12, 2022
Mar 12, 2022 at 10:09 PM UTC
I appear to not have matched pace
with the rest of the world.
Feet thumping like heavy rainfall,
bodies rushing around me
towards something - an end goal,
a vivid, visible finish line up ahead.
I'm shoved towards it
despite my heavy feet
chained down by a weight in my stomach
that lets out a muffled yell,
as if from underwater:
"Stay where you are!"
"I know," I tell the voice, "I know I'm supposed to,"
but it's drowned by the rain.
So I continue to be shoved around,
helpless,
as my stomach grows heavier
as the finish line dawns right before me.
I struggle with what little might I have to not cross the line
just yet.
I'm not ready.
My strength gives out and my left foot pushed forward,
followed by the rest of me.
It doesn't feel as bad as I thought it would,
to be where everyone else is:
past the finish line, into another new track
that would last another few hundred days
to finish.
The swarm of bodies are way ahead of me,
I notice,
and I sigh as I drag my feet
and the chains
and the weight.
Forward, forward,
knowing it was the only direction life granted us.
Jan 16, 2022
Jan 16, 2022 at 11:05 AM UTC
Someone stole my color
And threw it to the wind
Scattered like ashes
I don’t know if I’ll ever find it
Someone stole my color
From the face I know so well
I saw it in the cotton candy clouds
And the teal ocean swell
Someone stole my color
I guess that’s where it went
The world looks so much brighter
Like something heaven-sent
Someone stole my color
And that’s what no one knows
Depression isn’t black
It’s the color of a rose
It’s the light orange in a sunset
And the yellow of a peach
Light blue, my favorite color
So simply out of reach
Purple like my favorite eyeshadow
No, lavender, I’d guess you’d say
And my favorite music artist
Although he has passed away
Someone stole my color
Now everything’s too bright
I suppose sometimes darkness
Isn’t the opposite of light
Someone stole my color
So I’ll wear grey and black
As if in mourning
Until I get it back
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 3:46 AM UTC
i have a face cut from ice
a heart pierced in a thousand places
so to remember
always the same voice
the same gestures
and my laughter
heavy
as a wall
between you and me
the ones who are most alive
seem the most still
behind the milky way
a shadow dances
our gaze climbs toward the stars
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 9:05 AM UTC
the faint smell of rain
and the remnants in my coffee cup
from hours of early morning
wake me from my sleep
and as i lay in the space
between dreaming and consciousness
i breathe in the scent again
in hopes that it would take me back
to a similar time in the past
when i was closer to home.
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 7:48 PM UTC
I talk to the moon about
the lovely things you say
Yes, I talk to her
almost everyday
Her light shines through my eyes
Into my heart and reveal
An ocean of love and dreams
Of fears and tears from my cries
Alone, I talk to the moon as if I’m talking to you
I tell the stars to guide me
I ask the clouds to fly me up
And let my love soar and be carried
By a gentle breeze
Because the moon and I,
We get along
We whisper about your loveliness
And sing a merry song
And the moon and I,
Are just like you and I,
I admire you
But you will never know that I do.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 1:05 PM UTC
perhaps we start to realize
that we cannot keep floating.
our feet were always stuck
to the earth, where we belong
but we do not notice
until gravity defeats us,
when even our shoulders and backs
are pulled to the ground.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 12:47 PM UTC