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Here I am again.
Waking, moving, thinking, and speaking,
Loving, seeking, hoping, and dreaming.

How did I get here?
I thought one escapes in evening
Yet, tonight I am still here,
But I am sleeping.

Turn off the light
Pause the music of time,
And worlds unfold beneath my eyes.

I feel them as if they were pressing upon my skin.
I taste them as if they coated my tongue.
I see them as if they are inches ahead of me.
I know them as real and not,
But real, and not?

Then morning.

Here I am again.
Waking, moving, thinking, and speaking,
Loving, seeking, hoping and breathing.

I was there.
But where?
Not really here, nor there.
But somewhere.

Where I am now?
Here.
Again.
And again.
What is real?
Sarah Richardson Sep 2017
Time blesses and curses
Creates and destroys
Carries, slows down
Scares,
Tortures and rushes - drags.

Always looking forward,
The future, it’s alluring suggestions.
Walk the linear belt of time
Light at the end of this tunnel,
A place to rest.

It's moving farther away
The light has gone dim.
I can't remember why
Turn backwards, lost
Time snickers- apathetic

Given up.

In boredom I look down.
For the first time I simply observe where I am,
the ground is shining.
Light rays pierce the soil,
casting arrangements on the tunnel's ceiling like stars.
There must be something below.
Dig until my fingers are raw
Nothing,
soil rises up, takes the place of progress.
Resigning.

A light show above me.
The mesmerizing patterns create movies in my mind.
World beneath me begins to move,
The soil is swallowing me.
I don't resist and I don't want to, I feel...good.  

When I come to my eyes adjust to the most luminous imagery I have ever seen.
Glimmering suns, flowers of colors unimaginable, grasses of greens and dew reflecting rainbows. Birds of paradise cascade overhead, my ears can taste their music like honey.
Time can’t find me here because it doesn’t exist.
This is the present. This is the moment. I laugh, and I laugh and I laugh. I’m happy and I was always here. I was always here.
Sarah Richardson Feb 2017
The sun paints me reverential.
My eyes virgins to it's remarkable light, I've been sightless for ages.
The rays are absorbed through my tears into my soul,
I illuminate from the inside out.
My smile pours out from inside of me, it's disingenuous counterpart cast aside, waiting.
Where have I been?
Patterns decorate my arms, red welts of chains that once were.
Why has the sadness gone?
It's scary to recognize impermanence.
Everything comes in cycles - this included.

All I can do is keep my eyes open for as long as I can this time around.
bye sadness.
Sarah Richardson Feb 2016
By loving you I learned to hate myself
In finding you I learned to lose myself
Eyes rolling back inside my head - decorated by ugly shades of red
Don't really know if I meant what I said, if I'd rather be dead

Couldn't stop the shakes
Turned my tears into lakes
Trying to teach myself not to want you near
This is someone trying to disappear

Craving your careful stroke of my hair
That simple bliss so temporary

But in leaving you I've learned to need myself
And in forgetting you I've learned to be myself
They said life teaches you how to live it,
you just have to live long enough to get it
Sarah Richardson Sep 2015
On a small blue planet appeared a person,
It rocked back and forth screaming and crying.
It wanted a home and a safe place to go,
Where the unknown was not underlying.  

The person moved about this blue planet,
with wood it built a roof and four walls.
It called it a home, but didn't feel safe, as it
could still hear the whisper of danger's calls.  

With nothing to do but to continue with living,
It walked back and forth, laughing and crying.
Constantly searching for that feeling of warmth,
It's escape from the intense fear of dying.

Linear time dragged by on this planet,
This person was close to it's end.
It desperately fought to hold on to that place,
where it's thoughts would be constantly sent.

On a small planet then laid a person,
It closed it's eyes and looked into itself.
Discovered a universe where all was one,
and within the home of self, all was well.
Life.
Sarah Richardson Sep 2015
I'm bored of blue skies.

I'm bored of art, music, poetry, fantasy, movies and writing.
I'm bored of breathing, walking, talking, dancing, laughing and crying.
Bored of train rides home alone, bored of trying to understand.
Bored of remembering my dreams, bored of begging for dreams I can't have.
I'm bored of feeling.
I'm bored of drugs, alcohol, relationships, bars, clubs and pointlessness.
I'm bored of hugs, whispers, kisses, smiles and carelessness.
What to do when there's nothing to do,
What to do when you can't spend time with you.
Sarah Richardson Sep 2015
These days the colors of your voice paint time.
Minds bound together, but a frosty distance between.
Your soul dances fluently, a force I crave to absorb.
All I can do is breathe sounds into you while your arctic gaze unravels my deep makeup.

I revel in the acidic pain you've carelessly carved and I welcome it because nothing else exists.  

I shake, I’m scared. I blush, I’m on fire.
You watch tranquilly as if amused by a child.

Seized by your enigma my purity transforms to treachery. I laugh because I'm flying, you laugh because you know I’d let you do everything to me, and we both laugh because you just might.
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