I see you

I've seen those eyes before
Drowning in patched-up paddle boats
With promises of tomorrow slipping down your face
Like saline shipwrecks fleeing harbor
And greeting the ocean floor with damaged handshakes
And now you're hopeless
Focused on could have been's and maybe one day's
Knowing one day
Swelled up storm clouds
Could slide through your cheek bones
Like sunshowers preventing your skyline parades
But I see you still searching for rainbows
Covering your face with two handfuls of imagination
Daydreaming of days where technicolor dreamcoats
Become wrapped around your soul
Like tuxedos for the bold

I've seen those arms before
Deafeated willow branches in the moonlight
Rebellious to rise upright
And now you're tired
Only fired up when your flesh
Converts to kindling on a campfire
Building sparks that shimmer for seconds
When your light deserves a lifetime
But I see you still inclined to shine brightly
Trying to assign meaning to your life with two inspired limbs
That can freely build bridges or climb mountaintops
Clinging onto hope with sturdy fists
Exploring the peaks of your potential

I've seen those legs before
Tattered toothpicks on prom night
Frozen in stage fright on the dance floor
Pressing muted prayers with each footstep
Into creaky floorboards waiting for silence to ensue
And now you're nervous
You're certain those two left feet can't possibly find the rhythm
So your shoes are the victims of bashfulness
Fearing one false step will uproot your jitterbugs
And place them alongside the butterflies in your stomach
But I see you still owning your insecurities
Because you know you're alive just fine

I see you
You are who I envisioned you to be
I see you
Brushstrokes of imperfections shaded in perfectly
I see you
It's more than just your typical hello
It's a phrase for all of us to speak solely with our souls
It can make you feel at home at the center of your bones
When all your hope is lost and there's no where left to go
So when I greet you
Listen carefully
This is a reminder that your eyes can be thunderous
Your arms can be victorious
And your legs can be ambitious
Your presence is necessary for this discussion
And your essence is accepted here
Let me speak your spirit into existence
Seeing is believing
And believe me
I see you

I want to sit in a room
And watch the days turn to night

I want to watch the shadows dance in circles
Around the room
Time and time again

I want never to have to get up
To use the bathroom, eat, or shower

I want to give in to the endless chains
Of hopelessness

I want to just sit there
And not have to answer

Just sit there
And feel
The Gold light, the deep dark, and the twilight

I want to sit there
And watch the world pass
As I crumble with each tick of the clock

While I sit there I do not want
Neither your pity nor your condolences for
My wasted life

I want you to take my energy
Like you did time and time before

But…

I want you to take it
And use it to fix
The things in your life that are broken

Use it to make you happy

Because I…

Because happiness refused me
Because it was a tease a time ago

Or

Because I did not love it back like I should have

Because misery seduced me
And then chained me up in its basement

I want to sit there
Because
I could not answer the…
The most complicated question
Are you ok?

Without tearing myself
From the inside

Tahnee Calderon

No one is here and I feel at ease;
I feel the recesses of my imagination
spring forward as ideas are at the
forefront of my mind,
yet I cannot put them down on paper.

I feel the neon pinks and blues and greens
that I know strongly resonate with me,
but to my dismay,
nothing ever comes to fruition
as much as I hope.

That cliché phrase of, “The sky is the limit,”
drowns me as I realize
parameters and prompts are what guide me
to what I truly want;
the idea of freedom gives me anxiety,
as I am a clueless ant on this plane.

As I look at a solitary trashcan
of impossible black,
this idea of suffocation
truly
encompasses
my mind, inescapable, unreachable, and unattainable.

Yet at the same time,
limits **** darlings.

With this seeming paradox
of open-endedness and limitation,
I set forth on my prompt,
however mundane it may seem now.
This task seemed at first simple,
but it proved difficult at times,
like most mundane looking venues.

My mind is not unlike
a checkerboard stone table:
cold and calculating;
I feel my imagination dies
when my fingers touch keys,
when pen hits paper.

“The sky is the limit,”
drowns me over
and over
and over again.

I look out of my peripherals
and glance at the red building signs,
wishing there was something
as obvious as that for a sense
of direction in my life.

My imagination truly hates me,
my imagination truly loves me;
it is an indecisive companion.

I wish I was alone, but my mind
wishes otherwise.