Dear reader,
I have hope.
I found it buried
beneath ashes
I had made.

I'm okay now.

I once burned
the bridges
that kept me sane
but I've rebuilt them
and crossed them.

I am safe now.

I neglected
to tell you
what I had done
and how it felt
to be freed.

I am freed now.

Come with me
cross that bridge
and find a way
to be okay,
to fly.

Come fly with me.

Do I allow people in? Do I let them hold me while I cry?

Do I tell anyone know about the scars on my skin? Or should I push them away with a goodbye?

Is it absurd to even question it?
Any of that would surely result in being ripped to shreds.

I want to cut.

I want to cut through all the saddness and lies,
I want to end this anger and these teary eyes.

I want to cut my broken self even more,
I want to become a piling mishap on the floor.

I want to cut away the negativity- the rotten limbs.
I want to remove the excess burden that has grown on me and has left me on a pathetic whim.

I want to cut my feelings off, indefinitely.
I want to end my emotions once and for all, deliberately.

Maybe someone sits up there
Puffing a cigarette
Blowing out whiffs of dense air
Creating clouds of smoke
Strands of soul
Filling them with lives
Making them swindle
Dance and intermingle
Entangle
Dance together
For their short while
Filled with life
They dance
Hand in hand
In twos threes and as many as they can
And then drift apart
Fade out
Into the oblivion
Calling an end
To that while called life
While they danced
Like creatures conjured
Out of his puffs
That dance together in groups and in a pair
Before they scatter away
Like mist in the air
Maybe,
Maybe someone sits up there

Trickling tingles bubble, goaded from the verdant body
As a butterfly’s flutterings coax the flow
Widening and filling
With a gentle lapping of inlets
Ripples tease the reeds into turgid tremors
Merging to waves
Wave upon wave
Curves slide over curves
And at the Delta’s swollen, gaping breadth
Crests slip over craving crevices
Slapping froth in desperate gasps
Milking cruel spasms from the urgent need to reach escape
Until with turmoil resolved
A gentle calm inundates the great ocean of sleep.