Abigail Sedgwick

Abigail Sedgwick Apr 2016

I suppose there is
a thunderstorm
brewing up outside.
I suppose it rivals
the lightening storm
you're holding deep inside.

I suppose there is
someway that I
am surely to be blamed.
I suppose you could link
either storm
right back to my name.

I suppose that some might
jump or fret when they hear
the thunder roll...
I suppose that might
cause me to fear if not
for the CRACK
of your soul.

Abigail Sedgwick Apr 2016

I Love You (this much)

Did you know that I
lay awake at night
looking through the curtains
that you opened
as the moonlight spills in
and amplifies
the sounds of our home
settling around us
as you snore
and warm me with
your body heat?

Did you know that I
have a scratchy throat
when we wake up
early and that
I drink my morning coffee
because it soothes
the ache and not
because I have to
have it?

Did you know that I
love you so much that
I leave the curtain open
even on the mornings
when the sunlight
wakes me up and
burns my throat and
I know we don't have
any coffee cream?

Abigail Sedgwick Apr 2016

Saturday Haiku

The cinnamon smells
better than it tastes, although
so do you, my love.

Abigail Sedgwick Apr 2016

Summer Evening Sun

golden liquid butterscotch
saturates my skin
leadens my heart
inexplicable sadness
sticky sweet like
honey-soaked wool

Abigail Sedgwick Apr 2016

Give and Take

Flood. Flood me.
Lap my edges like
an ocean to the shore.
Crests and crashes
shifts and shivers
receding in a slurry
mingling, joining.
A hybrid of beauty, chaos.
I swirl around in the storm of you.

We take from each other
and
I give back.

I contour to you.

When the storm quiets
damages assessed

we are still the same beach
though the sand's a little less.

Abigail Sedgwick Apr 2016

Fine China

I chose to be porcelain.
   (It's pretty.)
People hold you up to look all around.
   (Oh! How pretty!)
You don't get to choose it but
your design will be stunning.
Good enough to pull their eyes
from the inside your craftsman forgot.
Someone else's half-finished thoughts
marking you forever.

I chose him, too.
   (You're pretty.)
Entranced, lost in my designs,
he poured in me a rich, sweet cream.
The richest half and half
pretending to make me whole.

Abigail Sedgwick Apr 2016

Untitled

It feels like being empty
but
you're filled with all the wrong things.
They hurt you,
but
you like them after a while.
They don't fit you
but
you fill them out.

An old outfit. Comfortable. Worn in.
To change is exposure to more of the same
Which
You secretly crave.

To pull on that old self
and disappear
behind the layers.
So complex you don't recognize yourself
when you're outside.

You can't let yourself heal -
Fresh air stings the burns.
When you breathe it in it hisses,
chills your teeth
Relief.
For just a moment
A new hurt.

You stay until the fear of staying is greater than the fear of leaving.