In a drunken haze i stumble through the meadow
Toes entwine with milkweed and purple aster
Crawling through the tall grass
My nail bitten fingers scratch at the dirt
Tasting the soil
The birds rustle at the disturbance.
Brilliant, white, beautiful.
They become a frenzy of feathers in the sky.
Blocking out the sun.
taking all warmth.
They swoop down.
Wings, beaks, talons.
They tear at my skin.
Stealing its color.
The breath of their wings have stirred up dandelion fluff
Wishes dance in the air.
I inhale the delicately decayed flowers.
In a frantic attempt to lift me from me self hatred intoxication.
Instead i choke.
Wishes fill me up and I heave
Retching out my insides.
My esophagus, my appendix, my tonsils
My trust, my love, my dreams.
Everything the defines me
Nothing but a hollow skeleton of what was.
I am left there shaking,
raw, ashamed, scared.
i never realized
i was holding my breath
that i was suffocating myslef
until I found the words
that allowed me to breathe.
perhaps I (no longer i) have found my unrealized potential
sometimes you have to burn your bridges
even if it means
losing your way
No one believed her
No one heard her voice
So she stopped talking
Stopped asking for a hand to hold
Stopped hoping that someone
tell her it's okay
That she is not to blame
That it is not her fault
So she stepped into the role as hero
She set his world ablaze
Just like he destroyed her
Returning his third-degree burns
That flame she sparked
Held the fumes of her voice
Lost long ago
She does not regret it, even though it hurt
Because sometimes you have to burn your bridges
Even if that means
Losing your way home
Ah, I remember her well.
She used to roam the woods brandishing her scepter of sticks
Commanding the creatures of the forest
The blue jays loved her, all the animals loved her, but, especially those blue jays
They brought her gifts.
And accompanied her on all her adventures
And watched her from the branches
She gave offerings of bread and warm milk
And wore their feathers in her hair
her hair was a wild mess
That wild tangled mess
Made me smile
She made everyone smile
She took a particular liking to me
I watched over her
she watched over me
a little girl
pep in her step
and sparkle in her eye
taking care of a scarred man like me
We had a trade
a weekly occurrence
A story for a story
A tale for a tale
She would whisper a story filled to the brim with
fairies and trolls
and trees with purple blossoms
and golden roots
I would hand her knowledge about the world
She saw the truth in people
called them flavors
said mine was a cup of hot chocolate
I once asked her what her truth is
asked her about her flavor
Frosting and moondust
with a smile
Now don't look at me like that,
She had her flaws
Even the most magnificent paintings faded with time.
What happened you ask?
She grew up
And everything changed
The winds didn't carry the scent of honeysuckle
And the crickets never sang.
She cut her hair.
And her smile was guarded
Weighted down by a heavy stone.
The Bluejays observed solemnly from the dead tree branches
As she withered away
The forest no longer hummed
And the town never felt so lonely
Even I lost a piece of me
When she got on that train
Without a wave goodbye
Maybe one day
The creek will chuckle again
And she will come back and
Finish that story
About the king and his butterflies
And I will tell the tale
About the origin of the moon.
But, perhaps that is just an old man's wishful thinking.
this is a submission I'm working on to get into a college writing program
Gadiaseite ~ gad-EEE-ah-site ~ NOUN
The great abyss of the empty page, a wishing well with churning waters so deep you can't see the bottom—only the shimmer of coins shine through, entwined with the efforts of past attempts—you can recover the wishes but only if you hold your breath and dive into the unknown waters.
Derived from the Latin word Gaida meaning waiting and the German word Seiten meaning pages.
threw me in the river!
swallowed the lock and key!
tied me up and drowned me!
I was happy as could be!