Summer
Wind chimes and the clock ticks me away.
I am waiting for something,
losing other things,
like my fingers
(when I pointed at stars to try and read them)
and my ribs, one by one,
(trying to hold myself upright)
I don’t know what it is I am waiting for
but it has its foreshadow in the air
felt on the outskirts of my lungs.
and now it’s inside my lungs
and all the same:
I don’t belong to myself anymore.
I want to take the batteries out of every clock
because suddenly I can feel everything dying.
Running but running out of time-
but how do you even go about a tantrum
when you'll never get what you wanted in the first place.
I must be a child or an idiot or losing marbles
but can't help the crying, making a fool of my face.
Autumn
Hands pull me back into my sleeves
and blood runs back into my heart.
It was not something I waited for. It was someone.
so I placed my bet on the smallest, sanest sun,
but still, I gathered frost
and shed my light
until refusal words were all swallowed.
They become enslaved stars
while I am realising that those I once read
had always belonged to someone else.
Winter
Gravity rolls its eyes and asks,
‘Why do I even bother?’
The universe came in and hungry
when it expanded
and everything got eaten up
until I was left with only these parts
that belong to him
and belong to the night-time
and the lock.
My mind is in ashes.#
They have already been scattered.
But there was the bet I didn’t lose.
As it turned out, somehow,
in that lost state, I didn’t wage a war
that I couldn't win. .
Spring
Love is portioned out and put in containers
and in the freezer on the bottom shelf,
next to something I made to eat later
before I can remember.
I won’t let anything melt.
I’m saving it for summer.
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 12:45 PM UTC
Summer
Wind chimes and the clock ticks me away.
I am waiting for something,
losing other things,
like my fingers
(when I pointed at stars to try and read them)
and my ribs, one by one,
(trying to hold myself upright)
I don’t know what it is I am waiting for
but it has its foreshadow in the air
felt on the outskirts of my lungs.
and now it’s inside my lungs
and all the same:
I don’t belong to myself anymore.
I want to take the batteries out of every clock
because suddenly I can feel everything dying.
Running but running out of time-
but how do you even go about a tantrum
when you'll never get what you wanted in the first place.
I must be a child or an idiot or losing marbles
but can't help the crying, making a fool of my face.
Autumn
Hands pull me back into my sleeves
and blood runs back into my heart.
It was not something I waited for. It was someone.
so I placed my bet on the smallest, sanest sun,
but still, I gathered frost
and shed my light
until refusal words were all swallowed.
They become enslaved stars
while I am realising that those I once read
had always belonged to someone else.
Winter
Gravity rolls its eyes and asks,
‘Why do I even bother?’
The universe came in and hungry
when it expanded
and everything got eaten up
until I was left with only these parts
that belong to him
and belong to the night-time
and the lock.
My mind is in ashes.#
They have already been scattered.
But there was the bet I didn’t lose.
As it turned out, somehow,
in that lost state, I didn’t wage a war
that I couldn't win. .
Spring
Love is portioned out and put in containers
and in the freezer on the bottom shelf,
next to something I made to eat later
before I can remember.
I won’t let anything melt.
I’m saving it for summer.
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