sometimes everything just
pools in the back of your throat
feeling like you could drown in
whatever emotion
****** at your eyes,
threatens to drop into your lungs

cold and tingling under the ear
behind the jaw
in a place not often thought of
in the day-to-day

sometimes
we have no words
for the things that happen
to us
sometimes words
are all we have

often
It’s a messy helping
of both-
words we can’t speak
feelings only conveyed
by screaming from
rooftops

messy
is key, here
this is never a clean process.
(regardless of what we crave and
wish and want)
few mops could properly
soak it all up

a sponge is none the wiser
sitting on the lip of
an overflowing sink

it can only do so much
to soak up what it can before it is
oversaturated
overstimulated
falling in the flow of water
as it tips over that lip-
careening over the edge,
full to the brim,
with nothing left to do
but fall.

i think i’ve grown comfortable
with my own suffering.
        surviving,
                       and only surviving,
for so long-
anything else feels
                                       alien and discordant.
it still makes the future fuzzy,


out of reach.


it overwhelms me.
drowns hope.
scars and blood
bring me back to focus;
but slipping hasn’t happened here.
grounding has come
in mountain peaks,
desert heat,
the mist coming off the sea.
stagnancy will eventually return
and that will leave me in limbo.
i only dream to keep
peace with the sweeping land,
making hope grow anew.
watering the forest in my chest.
keeping the fire of my soul from becoming all-consuming.

if heaven is real, it's an open road
it's a place I've been on far off travels
where the light hits right and the sun is warm, like the love of a friend
it's a moment in time where you remember
that the world is a beautiful place
despite the cruelty, agony, and pain
it's the eye-shine on a deer amidst a
nighttime field, the headlights pass over
it's the vision of a birdshadow crossing overhead, or landing beside you
like an angel checking in
beady eyes bright with intelligence
letting you know heaven is happiness
and nothing more, nothing less

perhaps i am just
a harbinger;
a bringer of things
making way for a
breakthrough.

in this i myself am not lost;
accepting the change
natural to life,
being one with a
catalyst.

sharpened teeth,
curving thorns,
knowing and prescient;
no prophet nor god,
simply something          
                     monstrous.
looming.
majestic and terrifying.

from the rose bush
and her bloodied thorns:

a reminder that blindly grabbing
for the plush flowers of
life, love, and future ?
means sacrifice.
yet all grow shocked,
gasping aghast
when they are pricked.

                        when blood is drawn.


                                                                                 when change occurs.