Your eyes, over breakfast, are where I find
my morning prayer to an unknown God. Thanking,
loving, and worshiping the divinity
reigning down on my head as small toes
wriggle within my body.
My mind is overwhelmed with wound up
time, ticking, endlessly without ceasing
into the prism of your soft, searching soul.
Hands inside, hand outside — we find our solace
in you. A creator of the created, still both in womb.
Stopping time is your specialty
over breakfast, I see you — seeing me.
answering my prayer.
I dream of death by bullets
entering the jaws of strangers
exiting my own skull
my own mortality is fragile
in the hands of my instability
As I shoot, like fireworks, across
the blue sky and paint it red
is that my finality?
Thrown against the wall
fragility will not find home in my bones
I have picked myself up from the hardwood
more times than you could understand.
the moon has traced my tears
as they fell down the golden, cracked
floral and lace, carefully absorbing them
into its tides. a controlling force in itself —
I became her.
This time, I say hello to you in a different
light. a light that is my own as my strength
shoves through you in waves… a power that
sweeps you off your feet.
If I had the chance to go back
I would not love you any less
I would still grab your arms
pull you close to me
Capture your gaze and find the
universe you’ve tucked so far
feel where you jaw bone pokes out
slightly working its way into your
neck, to your shoulders, to your chest,
I would still place my head there
and listen to the heart that beats within
I would still imagine the blood coursing
through your veins also provided me life.
Loving you less would be impossible.
But, I would listen harder. I would listen
to the sound of your voice dropping in conversation
The way your face falls when I try to lift you up
when you just weren’t ready
the pressure I put on you would become light
no more lead in your pockets at the hands of me
I only want to take them away.
become what you know you need in me.
if I knew what I know now.
battling bits of depression when you can’t identify the cause
is fighting a force field that you parallelingly approach infinity with.
You see it, you dont see its end.
You see yourself, you know youre not going to end.
But you wish it would go away (which one?).
Fake a smile and dont talk to anyone about it
in fear of being vulnerable.
Feel your way through zones of safe
head nods and small talk until you can lie back on the couch
and be wisped away by dreams that quickly turn to nightmares.
shed a tear or two in the shower so your dog
cannot lick them from your neck.
hiding your vulnerabilities from even the most vulnerable.
breathe in the cool breeze from outside
…through a 3” opening…
in hopes of a resurgent power, but only finding a gripping need to
not. do. anything.
I guess its better when you write about it,
but now I can’t put it away… here it is —
in the open.
hello, nice to admit you.
The dreams roll through my
mind as it hovers over the edge
of rest. A constant feeling of feeling
everything at once.
I cry as the clouds cover my eyes
and I fall into a land where I am
Dripping down my cheeks comes
the blood of reopened scars
slashed wide in fear of existence.
I walk through tunnels into green
fields of hope and sun and reflection.
Fences unbury themselves; capturing
my thoughts again.
As they ascend the small child grabs my hand
and vomits on my face.
I wake up.
Its fight or flight
when it comes down
to the end of things
flight is comfortable
we walk away with less
— external — bruises
fight is harrowing
its a double edged
sword, my dear
bruises and scrapes
show on our flesh
but — internally — thrive
what to do with yield signs
thrown in my greener grass
is this the other side?
paradise turns, choked
choked to undergrowth
a misunderstanding of
what a truth is
perception versus reality