I stand over the girl from my past.
My shadow is a mass, but I am Liberty,
in her stance,
in her strength,
in the sunlight.
second one has stuck
enough to blur the world around me-
Never mind the darker hours
(they aren’t important);
what is crucial, is the breath in my lungs.
The fourth poem in my annual series of poems I write for my birthday.
The dormancy of my linguistics,
doesn't mean I'm ignorant.
But I jest at the wastefulness
To expel the fortitude of such.
Anger is to give me weakness
of character, and you undue
I may seem like the sheep,
but do not take my
muteness, as a respite of no validation.
For one is most aware when all is smothered
And then you are like a crumpled leaf,
silent and calm....
I didn't utter a word, I just walked away.
letting you take in the view
of me not caring that you were in my shadow.
Not uttering your worth, but I showed you
that silence can knock down the
listen to the sounds
the sound of my breath
the sound of my heart
the sound of my whispers
watch the world
as it slowly spins
the fireflies in the dark
the moon with her eyes closed
the shadows dancing
i never thought
that was possible
but here i am
still trying to catch the breath
i lost when my eyes met yours
I love when colored salmon spawn
And leap with ease over towns on high
With rippling waves and glistening sheen
How they bound between these rocky outcrop clouds
And spread their whispy tendril fins
Across the cascading pinkish sky
I love the night just before it breathes
Quiet as waivering gills unseen
When the salmon color seeps into the sky
Maybe your tongue could be my own
Maybe your teeth are the mirror I’ve been fearing this whole time
Maybe your mouth is where I want to hide forever
Or maybe I want to be trapped within your mind
Maybe I want to see you from the inside
Not hearing what you have to say
But really see you from the inside
In a Jonah sort of way
Maybe I want mine to be your body
Incessant movement where one cannot tell
Where you begin and where I end
Maybe I don’t want it to ever end
Maybe it scares me if it never ends
Will it never end? Or more importantly, will it even start?
How lovely the clouds look
From the ground below
Painting the world in darkness
Such a beauty to behold.
It is so weird
How this is my life
How I am alive in all this
And get to change my fate
But death will come
And somehow curiosity
Is in my skin
Of what happens
After my heart stops beating
I’m scared of breathing.
For that’s the greatest crime.
And it kills.