make me invisible

make me ten times greater than I am

make me ten times smaller than I ought to be

diving in the deep end when you never learned to swim

this is not the way to learn to see.

You built me a casket that was too small and expected I would accept it quietly.




-t.s.

I'm like a ghost in my own place.
I feel guilty for taking up space.
So I will give it all to you
my body, my mind, and my voice.
When I tell you I love you
I don't have a choice.
I will make myself small,
put me in your pocket,
won't you take me home.

A wing
Carved of wood
An inch in length
Painted black
With red and blue details
Swirls and dots

Bought at a beach
From a street vendor
Selling hand-carved trinkets
Bought by her parents
When they were together
Before their child knew of their disagreements
Before chaos entered

The last good thing
Embedded in that little trinket
That little wooden Pegasus

The girl decides
Then places it in a box
Upon a soft blue cloth
The box; black with fern patterns

"This,"
Decided the girl,
"Shall go to the best thing in my life."
So
She prepared the gift
For her love

Meeting with him
Talking, spending time,
Then him having to return home
Seeing the girl in a few days
Forgot the gift with the girl
The child promising to bring it with her to him

Leaving it where she would remember
The girl goes to carry out her day
Forgetting it
Until she looked out her window
Seeing the remains of the gift scattered
Shredded outside her window
In pieces in her backyard
Her dog standing over them
Wagging his tail

Shock and disbelieving
The girl runs out to the remains
Trembling as she picked up the pieces
Relieved at finding the gift itself intact
The only thing ruined being the box
Once so beautiful
Now ugly shreds

Returning indoors
The little wooden pegasus wing in hand
She wept, her tears falling to the floor
For the last good from her childhood
Was almost ripped away from her

This last good
She wished to give to her love
As a symbol of trust and unity
To show her affection
Yet
It was so close
So nearly stripped from her
Almost swallowed by the jaws of a mut

- Jay M
November 23rd, 2019

What’s small, is small
what’s big, is big
and all that’s in-between
is also, either small, or big
never both

But isn’t it strange?
for a louse that strolls our head
the scalp kisses the horizon
whilst for us, each brow is arched
and the earth we travel, is flat
but not for Atlas, which from above
see’s that it is curved, while his shoulders
carry the infinite plane that is, ironically
a celestial sphere
which pushes this conundrum
all the way up to god
and possibly beyond

And all things are small
and all things are big
always both thing
never in-between

Thus, we should strive to remember
when the world is heavy on our shoulders
how small, it really is
and how the universe is hidden
in the tiniest of details

And then there’s us, amidst
duality of no, and every, thing
a cusp
of zero, and infinity