The roaches on my doorstep They show nights of neglect Follow me to darkness for I’ve not yet wept Sweep me under doormats and follow path The untimely death was apart of the wrath Breaching the veil I’ve not yet pushed through Legs start to quiver at those thoughts of you Will I be met by the moon Or shall she lay dormant Whispering to stars of my utter torment Clawing at life she has found her strife Not until mourning will I be cut by son’s knife Whisked away the smokes of today Unable to lay safely in the bed I have made Clothed in mindfulness I shriek at joy Just another game; and I am the toy
I used to water my speculation,mixing it with liquid imagery.. then I'd blend it around with subtle stirrings of my thought. Watching it change from a blank emotion, to something more. Collecting I used my fingers clasping a way to collect a thin film of musing swirls and then I'd gently blow..
Little shimmers would collect, floating delicately around my head. Rainbows of perception, gently encompassing a moment of a clear rendition. but a reflection only stains the image held for so long till it dulls in moments before evaporating in to tears of mist decaying into oblivion.
But then that place where my perceiving waters gently flowed now seemed more arid than what was previously perceived. No longer did rainbows form spherically.. No I was just a salt lake of tears, collecting white flakes of bleached nothingness. My moment was weak, last week I was serenading imagery now I'm just a dry lake bed.
"My words floated, but now there just dry renditions of a drought going on in my thoughts"
*"Were sometimes to thirsty, not realizing that we drank to fast and the basin of our thoughts have run dry"
I'm low on energy But I've got fire in my heart I want to wake up from this sleep My head is filled with water
The fire can't reach my mind because my head is filled with water. It stays below in my heart and has dimmed. It needs oxygen so it can grow and evaporate the water. The water makes me feel heavy, low on energy, and in a fog.
I was a woman of water A river for a body to flow like a current. I was meant only to sweep men off their feet. But never do anything but slip through their hands. Used only as something to mop up. But I found a man made of fire. That turned my voice into a voice. It was no longer a trickle. He took my rocky heartbeat. And turned it into a heartbeat. Then one day, His flames turned into a fingertip. One that caressed my jawline And whispered to my riverside cheekbones Telling me to become an ocean. To drown. Have a fierceness of a tidal wave. To crash anyone who hurts me. His hand touched me like a hand inside a wishing well And I grew the size of the Atlantic. I carried him with me, but his flames came back. Turning me back into a river A creek A puddle A girl. I held hands with a campfire Burnt my skin into submission And evaporated. Like I’m supposed to.
Hey, um, please comment if you want and let me know what you think of this. I haven't been too confident in my writing here recently. so I wanna know any thoughts or problems you have.
Listen to the silence Gaze into the darkness Entrust your body to your mind Let go of the earth Let your soul unwind Floating into space Forget this dreadful place Become one with the stars Become one with who you are