I am clawing at happiness,
Hoping that it finds me a suitable vessel.
Because, these days are blurring together and
I am seeing endings where there should be ******.
I am filled with leaving
And too scared to scream to the people  I love,
that staying frightens me...
I am finding nothing here
And I am neither good at sitting or good with standing,
And I no longer know in what direction to move one step forward...
I am living in scarcity of myself,
Putting together the scraps of myself
that I no longer want,
But it is all I have.
And my God am I trying to hold on.
I am trying to see the sun
without wishing for the moon.
Wishing for the moon
and waiting for morning.
There is no ground I want to stand on...
There's no hands that leads to arms for me.
You are not here
And you are not willing to lend your heart
while mine is out seeking restoration.
I've always been the woman saving herself
But, how many times do I have to break
in order to be filled?


-Indigo Morrison

I will wear the cotton in your voice
Like a satin waistcoat
Hearing you call through splintered walls
And the wind blows as easily as the rain falls
Slowly
I feel as though I am a drop
Hurtling through the sky
Towards the moss covered earth at a shattering pace
Barely making a dent
On the sliver of the place you are
The other side of the door
Just a track away
And though I do not see you I hear your sway
Creating balance in the things you say
And we will walk forever
Though we do not move from the warmth
Of your iron cage
With boiling over foreigners begging for attention
My eyes cannot be drawn away
And ill stand in a field
And the corn will have no names and you will be
Flying like a bird without a cage
A slave without binding
A stitch without thread
And we will sprint like two parallel lines
Always similar but never touching
Infinite in ourselves
But finite with each other
Our paths never cross
Though we move side by side
Lost in the people we want to be with
balancing on a fence post we dont know is stable
With chipping paint
And white lines
Moving forever through a blind eye
You’ve found the pair to your pair of die
But where were you when I hadn’t
When my tissue box was a house for elves
And my sandbox was not a place for creation
Where memories went to sleep
And marbles were lost
I slipped in the downpour
And my shirt ripped
And my shorts tore
And I am sobbing alone
Optical spillage with small oceans removing themselves
Left drowning on my own
But though your seams are now sewn
Mine remain alone
And I stand now
Like a house without a home
Im sitting like a rock at the bottom of the sea
And I feel the pressure though it has never touched me
Fizzling inside my ears like static during a phone call
With you on the other line
Your hearing fine
Mine not at all
Your white noise is blinding but you never hear it
Sending me message after message
But my ears refuse to be near it
Like a microphone and a speaker
Your feedback is heavy
and when you are with her
Your white noise goes away
Your equally quiet souls both speak loud
And neither one overpowers the other
And I know you will not have me
For I am a force of nature
I swing like the light on the top of a lighthouse
And warn sailors of the danger on my shores
Because though you do not want me when I am yours I am yours
I am in the world for a long haul
And I hope your course changes
I hope your white noise dulls
I hope she can hear you when you whisper like sirens
And I hope if your voice reaches
Or hers falls
I hope you find comfort in the ***** of her sanity
because every other set of lines, meet once
and then drift apart forever
parallel lines are infinitely similar
but will never meet

I know the lines in my hands are a constellation in your worlds sky.

Poetry is everything to me
It's my water that I need to drink
From the Fountain of Emotions
It's the crutch I need when my heart sinks
Without it the world would be less cultured
All I need is you and enough paper to last me through the next leap year
My mind may be busy working on fictional worlds and making them come to life
But you make my world go round and round
You're my Bonny to Bonny and Clyde
Partners in Crime
Except your name is much more beautiful than Bonny
And I couldn't stand a single day separated from you
Unless we still have some way to communicate
That would be my mail in rebate
Where hearing your voice and seeing your messages sinks into my time
Meaning there was never wasted time in that sense

You are so important.
You are the concrete built to keep cars from traipsing off highways.
You are the talking down of man when jumping off bridge becomes salvation.
You are the last kiss in hospital rooms
You are the goodbye in airports.
You are exit wounds that go straight through,
You would never lodge yourself somewhere unwanted.
You are the sun after a night almost decisioned as last.
You are the mantra I repeat every morning feeding me to love myself.
You are the reason that today will not fall to the right of the dash sign on gravestone.
You are diaries filled with prayers to God
that I was too scared to voice for fear that he would not recognize me.
You are every foot forward when I was scared my blackness was too big to enter into classroom conversations.
You are wild eyes when everyone is too in trend to take off their cool.
You are naked heart when cold has caused frost bite of these  hands.
Body yearning to be touched but too scared to be honest.
You are the silent
"You are here"
when depression floods me with "you are nothing"
You are the
"This will pass"
when anxieties infiltrate my home without knocking.
You are the silent "I am here"
When I grow tired
with hurt from people
I would lie down what ever blessings God has on back order for me.
You are not the absence of fear but the courage of being scared and to keep moving anyways.
You are hello's too long overdue
from girl too often overlooked.
You are the seeing of Queen over seductress.
You are the man, not loyal to being loyal but, fiercely protecting what is human,
what is steady,
what foundations you have built upon.
You are the calm found in chaos by girl too enthralled by rain to run inside.
You are secrets whispered to the moon
with the ulterior motive of being heard by the stars.
You are everything.
You are so important.


-Indigo Morrison

my friends, my friends
we are birds on power lines
huddled for warmth
specks against the grey
surrounded by the late october gloom
and the steam rising up from the gutters
we are restless and sour
eyes pointing outward
-
every step
every teensy, solitary step
sealed with egg shell footprints
womb nostalgia
tenderness found in autumn colored flashes,
moth-wick sparkles, and fried dandelion blossoms
we remember our grandmas’ knuckles,
chipped tiles on the kitchen floor
-
my dear, my dear
we are stray brown tabbies
bellowing rumble, ears stripped of fur
settled into our corner of the front porch
once we were roustabouts;
waltzing to the waxing and wane
carpeted floors gave way to concrete chill
but now the summers seem longer
-
the smell of cardboard,
cinder block walls, and duck pond water
stale memories with naked omens
we turn to face the chilling draft;
tomorrow
harping on and on about grey areas
while we kick up alley gravel
balanced by surface tension
-
under quilts counting freckles
plasma paychecks peddling uphill