Emily Von Shultz: Favorites

Jun 2015 Emily Von Shultz

Oscar's lament (or how I came to die of a broken heart)

Jun 2015 Emily Von Shultz

Graced Lightning

Oscar's lament (or how I came to die of a broken heart)

A faint buzzing sound and our out-of-sync breathing is all that can be heard.
Every few moments the buzzing stops, only to be replaced by a quiet tap
Buzz. tap. Inhale .buzz. exhale. Tap .inhale. inhale. buzz
“he thinks it’s the moon” she says
the mysterious bug continues to fling himself at the dim lamp. Tap
“he’s going to burn his wings off and die” I murmur.
Buzz. Inhale. Tap. Inhale. Buzz. Exhale. Exhale. Tap.
“but if bugs could think, his last thought would be
‘I reached the moon’”
she looks at me. Back at the bug.
I’ve named him Oscar,
Buzz. Inhale. Tap. Exhale. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Exhale.
Loving her is a lot like flinging myself at
a fluorescent light. Everyone around me sees my
stupidity but all I can see is the moon and the
endless ocean tide it brings
buzz tap inhale inhale exhale
all I can see are the galaxies in her eyes and thunderstorms on her tongue.
Buzz. Tap. Inhale exhale buzz exhale tap
My wings are burning off but ******* is the moon beautiful.
Inhale buzz inhale tap exhale exhale inhale silence.
“I think he’s gone” she’s staring at the lightbulb
“yeah” I whisper. I’m staring at the moon.
She looks beautiful tonight, all messy-haired and barefoot.
Inhale exhale inhale exhale inhale inhale exhale silence.
We did it, Oscar. We reached the moon.

May 2015 Emily Von Shultz

Lost and Looking

May 2015 Emily Von Shultz

Fish The Pig

Lost and Looking

the theatre has fallen,
the great black box is no longer a home away from hell
it is a soundscape of fear and hunger
where I can't feel accepted
and no longer respected
it is a nest of inferiority
and a longing for conformity
lonliness eats my heart away
though exactly why, I cannot say.
It used to be my home
my kingdom,
but on return from summer
it was as if the house had been renovated,
a new family moved in
and I'm not even a guest,
I'm a ghost, unseen by all
drifting through walls that used to be
stuck in the past
desperate to breath with the living.
But instead I stay in back,
haunting all I see,
under the realization,
that the only one being haunted,
is me.

the black box theatre used to be my home... now it's just a place I wander in want of familiarity

Apr 2015 Emily Von Shultz

Skipping Class

Apr 2015 Emily Von Shultz

Fish The Pig

Skipping Class

I listened to my stubby heels echoing light clicks and clacks

on the ***** pavement,

a sound far better than the the laughter and chatter of the previously escaped classroom.

I mozied along the empty campus, feeling warmed by the bits of fog that clung to the air

and moss trees towering from pine needles in a very still way

that if not for the fog's gentle swaying I would have assumed the world to have stopped.

I liked it that way best.

When things are still and quiet and full of posibility

but you choose not to reign in that possibility because you love the freshly chilled air,

air so fresh it makes you want to fill your lungs with it

and take a To-Go bag as well.

Sometimes I sit and look out,

silently hoping that if I sit there long enough I too,

will become quite still and fresh fog might cling to me

and someone else might admire me as part of a still world,

like a picture in a golden frame.