I hear the rumble
Clouds and electricity ride across the sky
The very storm that brought the mudslides
Is the very storm that will loosen the dirt
Not even the sand can silence the storm
Buried under filth and wrapped in root
Forgotten like a ruin and fossilized
Ive slept for seven years
I heard your voice travel through the earth
I am ready to claw my way out
With mud under my nails
With God in my finger tips
One hand reaches further in
To feel the rain seep through soil
I never dug a grave, but I never moved
I am a city
Hidden by time and harsh winds
Breaking ground in a field of white, dressed in black
Gray light fills my mouth and eyes
My first sight is your face formed in the clouds
Resurrected in a water birth
I am forgiven with rain
There is a void in the earth
Not a grave, but a womb
Head first, I scream to the sky
My chest and lungs are free
My hips escape as the holes cave in
I catch my first breath in a wet choke
The very storm that brought the mudslides
Is the very storm that will loosen the earth
Thank you
Thank you for this
This is mine

the quality of being authentic
(AUTHENTIC IS)
(of undisputed origin; genuine*)
messy buns a little bit too messy to be pretty, hair falling all over
a camera held loosely, fingers easily finding the record or picture button by muscle memory
years of bad relived in words spilling out to another entity for need of connection and know
pacing back and forth, staring at walls, and misplaced hand gestures all while talking to yourself
what too many people crave for so bad
what turns stale when too many people crave it so bad
stale
found 75 pages deep into a blog found from someones reblog of anothers' reblog at midnight
drunk like sleepiness, the slightly tipsy shitpost on the verge of deep conversation
open skype calls with gritty laptop cameras and headphones, talking talking talking
waking up at 3 am and writing something down immediately so as to not forget it
post dinner midnight snack cereal
"i don't really know how i am. how about you, how are you?"
talking to your dog

Parallel we run our course
Only difference in choice
You may say it is the scenery
Or how you see
When in the midst of knowing
We know nothing and all