It is not that I have the urge to run away,
I just have the urge to run toward anywhere but
where I am.
Sequoia has called my name for lifetimes now and
I have ignored it’s siren song for far too long.
Emotions are like stepping stones.
Some are loose and long to be unearthed
while others are stubborn, jagged, and lingering.
In Sequoia, the trees are to be trusted.
Their reliable roots grip deep into mother Earth.
She holds them, limp and twig, leaf and bud.
I long for a trust like Sequoia.
Part of me is still in Oklahoma, my dorm,
shoving on shoes that will never fit.
My body is in bed,
but my mind is on an Arizona highway
searching for my soul in the blatant sun.
My mind is on a Montana mountainside
staring at the sprawl of an ancient glacier.
My mind is in my childhood home
combing through dusty boxes
for pieces of my mother before the divorce,
In New York, the MET, Gogh’s self portrait,
Illinois, Round Lake, 4th of July 2009.
My body is in bed but my mind is in Sequoia.
The trees are bigger than my ego and
The wind is nothing Oklahoma, it’s slow.
I think Heaven left a piece of itself on Earth;
I won’t tell if you don’t.
Nov 16, 2020
Nov 16, 2020 at 11:53 PM UTC
i wanna sip your thoughts
from a crystal clear
inquisitive
wine glass.
leisurely while
nuzzling my nose into soft shoulder,
& watching the sunrise.
when content
encompasses me,
the way i ache for your arms to;
i do not fight it.
this intimate quicksand revolution.
when friends ask how you ‘feel about him’
denying the obvious
only makes it more prevalent.
reflection made by morning
cotton candy skies &
sincere soft cyan eyes.
we all have our
happy little sins,
dont we?
unaware of the consequences,
i get high on your fault lines.
you, a planet pollutionless.
your existence
is a little more human than the rest of us.
i have never known moderation.
this is no exception.
thesaurus is absolutely useless.
when i fall,
it is not gracefully.
despite my middle name,
clumsy better suits me.
knocking over labels & normalities,
i trip recklessly.
forgive me for
feeling too passionately.
this life i live,
will not be rooted in apology.
im sorry i have feelings for you.
what the hell am i sorry for?
light never shines
unless i flip the switch;
common sense says this.
but, what if i light a candle?
fill the air w/
sweet scented silence.
inhale the moment.
Dec 2, 2017
Dec 2, 2017 at 2:27 PM UTC
wounded heart
searches streets
for old lovers
or an ice cream parlor.
falling in lust w/ freezing
is easier than it sounds.
both cold hearts &
mint chocolate chip get the job done.
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 10:18 PM UTC
i dont want the things i dont know about you
to become permanently unknowable.
which is to say
please stay.
spill your heart
on my ripped jeans like morning coffee,
clumsily, everywhere,
& when it is most uncomfortable.
you dont have to hold me constantly,
just when i need it,
enough to know im wanted.
this burning building body i call home
does not need gasoline,
nor to be extinguished.
please just learn to appreciate the imbalance.
a careless constant carnival act.
what i could say,
what i should say,
english becomes foreign
when trying to speak to you.
i apologize ahead of time.
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 9:06 PM UTC
The beating is eased when self inflicted. "Disregard me" is treated like a catch phrase. An everyday sentence.
All pronoun, verb, and invisible.
So tired of standing up for myself. Legs began to quiver, begging for a break. Could have force fed silence. Decided not to. Abused myself instead. My head had become all power hungry.
As if to say I was trying to prove something.
Not giving the satisfaction of ignoring me freely, but ordering too. As if I had a say in the first place. "Disregard me" seems to be the darkness at the end of the tunnel filled with yet more darkness but it's making me think I hold the light switch.
Blade tongue.
All ego and arrogance cutting my cheek. A weak stomach from being trampled on without consent.
I trample myself now.
I never had answers, but at least this way I can pretend I'm asking the right questions. My mind is hubris oriented.
Cutting my throat, yet feeling empowered that I'm the one holding the blade.
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 5:33 PM UTC
Think of a feeling you have not felt nor witnessed anyone who has felt it.
Describe it.
Can you explain to me what the unknown is? do not notice the tide rising up your leg until you are standing, neck deep, in gulf shores salt water. don't know when close is too close until you get burned.
Can never correlate the distance and the difference it makes.
Looking at a map you cannot read. A question mark ended opportunity. We stick in our hands, slowly, knowing there will be nothing to grasp. A blanket of black. This is how we proceed with caution. Better to reach for nothing than to reach for something and miss. Better to make no progress than to accidentally regress. The problem with pretending that living consists solely of existence is that it doesn't.
The earth still turns even when we aren't focused on it.
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 12:26 PM UTC