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c May 2018
--
There’s an instant when,
Recondite and foreign
The azure expanse bears its face and,
Stricken grey with glutton,
Ventures its dark reign
--
c
Making sense of a rainstorm
c Apr 2018
Long ago, I felt it rinse through my body
And sink in a shallow too deep to reach
By mere hands.

From early on it spread:
Quiet, low, festering, yet
Too bruised to conceal
Too flash and fire to put out, and
Every once and again
It consumes each straying thought, I--

              I wanted to be naked like everyone else.

I wanted to brim and spill over,
A kettle engulfed in flame.

I wanted a song I could hold,
A dream I could touch,
Personified by love and love only, so
I carved my body into a question mark
And let you in.

You've made a garment of me.
A disheveled entity I no longer recognize,
Your animated sleeve.

Anxiety, you are the perfect lover.
The table I lay my worry on.
The one I curl into at night.

I line my shelves with your books as if
One day they'll offer an answer,
But
They are light and leafless.

I watch high from your window as you
Paint your face on my mirrors,
Beat your name into my walls,
Speak for me,
Breathe for me, I--

               I once considered washing you down into oblivion.

Made a net of my hands and convinced myself
I could fall forward,
Land without you.

Through years I've realized
I could do this very thing
Without condensing my life into a bottle.

No pills, no altering remedies,
No.

              I do not wish to dull your senses.

Instead I wish, in silence,
That one day
I will garner the courage to
Stand up to you
When you are wrong.

--
c
An ode to anxiety. Hope this is relatable.
This isn't meant to knock those that choose to medicate. This is something I recently decided is best for me personally. Thanks for reading.
c Apr 2018
Nai
Nai,
We walk different jungles
Sun spliced in different skies
Split by a slab of blue
Yet I hear
You

Me, here,
Walking the paths you sing of,
Making hands of the words you speak,
Arriving at the memories you've wrung like a
Needle stuck in my mind

You
Sing like your soul is on fire.
Purring of quiet as silk;
Lungs weeping raw in
Consonant melody sifted in
Soil

Oil
Spilling off palms
Soaked in the blood sun, and
In all my wandering--
I can't help wondering if, in the end,
I discovered you
For a reason

--
c
Reflecting on an artist that inspires me: Nai Palm (singer/producer of the band Hiatus Kaiyote).
I've listened to practically every interview I could get my hands on, and decided I'd try and translate my feelings for her music and artistry into a poem. I could probably write about it for 15 more stanzas at least. Here's a start?
c Apr 2018
We are all subject to the train’s pull
No matter our worth in weight or wealth
No matter the sum of gold noosing necks & wrists
Gravity wringing aspirations into pools at our feet

We are sacks of meat, burdened by the heaviness in knowledge & consciousness:
The knowing we are, and yet not

Writing preface to our own demise,
Whilst the load of space around seals its binding
******* righteousness in the left & ignorance in the right

We, nature-made, we
Busy in breath and body

We, donning better halves as pelts and scarves, we
Soulless sleeves malleable in gear

We
Train people
Swaying
As does a bundle of seaweed moves about a scape of blue,
Powerless in swing

--
c
Enjoy the ride.
  Apr 2018 c
Lahkeesha Ghastin
She sits rather still, stitching her loom
shackled and bound to the whispering room
While the walls shutter speeches
she slouches then reaches,
her stitching resumed.

Threads of silk pool in spools
cast to the floor
Hushing the voices
as they pour

the voices repeat their crippling phrase
dancing the space
bound to their maze
Not sure. I've been editing it for awhile and I give up.
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