There is always calmness before the storm hits, as
There must be an egg before there is a chicken;
Your silence is pregnant with a calmness that
Chills my bones and makes my heart beat wildly.

I have always found peace in your raving, more
Especially those you claim are killing you slowly;
Give me your raving so that my heart will be
At peace; this calm silence is killing me slowly.

I am conceived by a woman and brought up by
A woman, then given to another woman in marriage
To be loved: so I won’t deny knowing that hell
Hath no fury like a woman’s scorned.

You’re another woman’s baby, but now you’re my babe.
I can’t give you up for the whole world, neither can
I withstand any storm from you: my tongue sticks to
The dry roof of my mouth and words have deserted me like
Morning mist. I fear the calmness before your storm.

It's just that my life is so crazy
and when I am with you,
everything I am dealing with
seems to explode into tiny particles.

But now that you have left me,
my life has gone mad again
and I just need you
so that everything could slow down for a second.

I crave the calmness you give my soul.

B.K.

You know that feeling
When everything around you
Is just spinning,
Pounding,
Bringing total chaos?

But somehow you feel nothing at all.
Not scared about being shot at.
Not being scared that a car is about to hit you.
Not being scared that the freshman that you just shoved out of your way will come and hurt you.

You just stand there,
Watching the bullets fly at you.
Watching the headlights on the car come straight at you.
Walking away but turning around to make sure he isn't running after you.
Just waiting to see what will happen next.

That feeling you have when all that chaos is happening,
That my friend is called calm.

petrichor is to VX
as temporary is to eternity
for a long sleep
is considered 'la petit mort'

let it pour down the porcelain
stitching
of thy hollow carcass


cold, shivering,
along with
the music of my teeth,
tattering

to calm is to wait for precipitation.

and I want it so bad.

creating my own
magic and peace
i’m keeping my head
in the clouds--

sometimes i look down
& i can see
all that i find
**** near debilitating.

most things are overwhelming.

i can't help it that
i can be overwhelming, too.

A water bottle perched
on a desk, cluttered
with papers. Old writing,
portfolios of work half-forgotten.
A hand grips the bottle,
untwists the cap,
sips. Right now,
her words
are her only friend.