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East Wind Jun 7
Thrown off the beaten path,
I'm slowly surrendering to lull of
insouciance that slithered into my limbs.
Heart palpitates, then settles
dampened by the trickle of rain outside;
time still runs like she does.
Always forward never back:
to do, to be, to say, to sweat, to grind,
to chase,
to chase,
to chase...
To what end?
Until we run out of breath?
Or we can sit, and wait, and ponder...
to what end?
Until we run out of breath!
I'm always asking why, but now I'm asking "to what end?"
East Wind Feb 21
Everything seems urgent but it's not.
East Wind Dec 2019
I thought that I could keep changing my name
until I found the one that fits.
    The name that will make me stand tall,
     be bold. Not fold...
Aha, but...that power doesn't rest in the name
I have to garner it from within.
East Wind Nov 2019
...
Life gives opportune moments to be taken
regardless of the fortunes left unattended.
Leaving behind unassuming faces
to be faced with the hunting of oasis.
Taken from a poem I'm working on … Leaving what you know is hard, daring to go is even harder.
East Wind Oct 2019
Tin cans, strings attached
The boy across the median
The dirt under her fingernails
The spotted dog that followed her
Made her feel like the world was hers;
That the moon was in fact chasing her
Wherever she turned, it was above her
Pointing down at her with its silver glare.
She would run and hide then peek from behind
The gutters, the rocks, the parked cars, the dog house;
The moon, present, every night, from new, crescent, to full,
Until one day she realized, she might be chasing The Moon.
When I was kid, the moon followed me.
East Wind Sep 2019
Believing it won't happen again
I planned to paint myself in the corner.
The little girl that could was no longer visible.
In her place is me,
too afraid to say no, too afraid to be alone.
No poetic way to say,
I run away even from my own shadow.
I Decided,
You will become my security blanket.
Relentless, unapologetic, and just conniving enough
to stay until you go.
Warm at first, then sung, then sleepless nights ensue
until it feels like I'm nestled in a straitjacket.
It will be of my own making, I'm afraid
that I'll wake up with no wiggle room.
Too afraid to say no, Too afraid to be alone.

The little girl that could, where did she go?
The little girl that could, where did she go?
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