#shewrites
On this weird evening all i can think of is you and all the things that we've missed out on, it's like i have stopped it all for you and don't even know how to begin again. My mind is not at rest even when i tell myself how foolish i am to keep longing for you. In all this i still feel hope and i feel something more. You are ordinary but i see you extraordinary.
On The Night Where The Air Stands Still In Waiting; The Sky Is Bleak And Misses The Stars, Loneliness Becomes Inevitable. Even The Presence Of Humans Can't Shake Away The Persistent Feeling Of The Absence Of Someone So Important. Loud In The Ears Are Sounds But No Connection; The Mind Is Screaming Into An Endless Tunnel And Only Echoes Are It's Reply.
Even With The Thoughts And Visual Image, There's No Change In It's Stance, Yearning And Craving Seems Endless, Swirling In To An Unknown Destination With No Idea Of Moments Passing; It's One And Only One Need, It's Reached The Zenith, Now Restlessness Is Company.
The Mind And The Heart Concurrently Sends The Same Message To The Brain, Asking For Solutions For It's Turmoil. In This Distance Of Affection, All And Everything Around Seems Appalling.
It's strange how i still think about the possibilities, i only hope to myself that i am not mad or going mad. There times when i miss you like rain for expectant Farmers, then i go mad at you for little reasons and decide that enough is enough. Then i try with all of my will to neglect you but it's something i can't do, cause my heart reminds me of you and so does my prayers.
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 6:35 AM UTC
There is a funeral pyre
I built as I walk.
A parade of orange flames
down the street,
blue centers lapping like puppies
trying to get my attention.
And I let that ache burn
with the ashy residue
that lies thick on
all my clothes
and the tongue where
I kissed you.
I left the love, I left the lover
but, Oh! the embers wear me round my neck like a like an sailor's orange sky
Struck a match to patch the hole.
And everywhere I go I am the mourner and the deceased.
Outliving the everlasting,
wearing thin evermore.
sahn
8/9/16
Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 12:46 AM UTC
i worry in tenses.
past, present and future
to stave off the huntsman whose after my head.
dire regrets are no more of a reaper
than the incubus lying still under my bed.
it's not the long shadow that
quickens my heartbeat
it's who he belongs to frightens me so.
not what i acknowledge
that gives me cold blood chills
it's all of the lovers i'll have to forego.
Cerberus came once to settle my debtor
handing him payment, i'm awful contrite.
for now one can love me
and no one can mourn as i'm
burdened to love him in black hematite.
Sahn 08/10/15
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
i watch his magic trick
in the morning by the sink
with the crunch of the blade
he goes from monster to man...
with the sleek silver rake
he goes from mine only
to the all the worlds.
and i am jealous of the world
my eyes watch him
as he clears the charming stubble
and tames the wild curls.
and i peek at his belly,
soft and pale
with sprouts of hair
like a man jungle.
and i watch him
with the cottoniest of cottons
ironed and pressed
shirt like a gift wrapped tight-
edges and clean lines.
i close my eyes and inhale
because next i will smell his smell.
and keep them closed
for him to lean over
inhale
and kiss me goodbye.
i don't want to hear the door close
but it does.
and i watch the hands as they
tick
tock
and i watch that **** door that let
him go
become the door that brings him back home.
Sahn
4/24/15
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
It all spins
gravitational pull
and I-
astronaut distance
orbit it sadly.
My only regret-
out in the black nothing
is not feeling my back
against brick
one more time.
Push me against
the cold and cutting
and kiss me with your
hands by my head.
Ever so cleverly
holding the wall-
holding the world.
Holding out on me.
As I tumble,
astronaut girl
and look at the blue beneath my toes
my only regret is
not learning how fly that kite.
Learning how to ride currents
with colorful
useless
beautiful
toys.
So very stuck, was I,
on all of the moons
That I never took
to dragons with tails
or red and black scales
and days taken hostage
and grass that can lasso
and pull me in earthbound.
Now I am anchored to nothing and watch
as the blessed and foolish dance at weddings
and funerals
and I watch from above.
Astronaut, I am
my only regret is that
all of this time
I've spent farming the stars
I never did learn
to correctly love you.
Sahn 4.13.15
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 11:48 PM UTC
You will learn my rhythm
and lean in when I talk-
The smell of me like petrichor perfume
will linger on your shirt.
Feel of my lips like
satin ties
of the ballerinas shoes
will wind
around your mind
and tie across the gooseflesh
on your arms.
You will know I have come
before my hand
lifts to knock,
and your heart will quicken-
echo percussion against the chambers.
You will remember
the last wet place
we walked with one umbrella.
And when it rains
you will fill buckets with longing
to fit our slick bodies
underneath its black shelter
again.
You will knot your tie
and straighten your collar
and your body will stiffen
because it remembers.
You will have a track mark
like the silver needle bullet
chasing through your veins-
that recalls us.
Like tongue recalls salt,
like wound
recalls harm-
like child recalls
before being born-
like the prayer remembers
before being sung.
like the rock will recall that the ocean was there
and the cell will recall being painlessly split
and you will remember
with such vivid lust
and you will love in a timeless loop.
And I will love you over and under.
We will love till we're small again,
Love as time resets again
And then do it all once more,
Again.
Sahn 4.10.15
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 11:42 PM UTC
What day was it, exactly
when you asked?
I'd never thought
not that far out:
But.
I want to sit by the mountainside.
Hear the brook every morning-
gather up river stones
build up a path.
Drive an old chevy truck.
Red.
With radio made for blasting.
I want a moonroof and plenty
of stars in the sky.
I want to see faraway places.
Hear funny voices say funnier words.
I want to visit-then
I want to come home.
To you.
I want to cook like they do in NY
And garden
and pick pretty flowers.
To grow older
and watch
as my babies grow old.
I want to visit pyramids.
Buy trinkets at Parisian stores.
I want to see Venice-
make my way
thru watery streets.
But then
I want to come home.
To you.
To that mountain.
by that creekside.
Feed the squirrels and watch red robins.
Write under a tree.
I might want to go west-
Drive down highways fast
stay up in Vegas,
Late.
Wear sparkly dresses.
Drink pricey champagne
close to the bay. Any bay
will do.
I want to find light in the India bustle
and color in Ireland's green
and then,
I want to come home.
I want four corners and
I'd love seven wonders,
But still-
I'd want to come home.
To you.
Sahn
4/11/15
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
I'm difficult and broken
-and not at all difficult and broken in that oh-im-so-difficult-and-broken-beautiful way that some women can be.
No.
I'm just difficult and broken in all the ugly ways it manifests.
sahn 4/10/15
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
I can lose you in the crowd-
I can lose you in a train of thought.
I can lose you to the errant sock
the wallet left on a table,
that last marble down the vent.
I can send you down the wrong path
send you packing-
send for your belongings.
Send you away.
I can deliver you safely.
Deliver you to the doorstep
Sign off on your delivery.
I can get carried away by you.
Carry your grudge.
Carry the weight of the relationship.
I can blow off to the westerly wind
Blow up, Low blow.
Blown away.
I can mark the days
The mark of the beast
market day and slip away.
But I can't remember how to not love you.
Can't remember how to stop hope.
How to turn off faith.
I can't remember how not to look for you
in the crowd-
how to not listen for your laugh or your key in the lock.
I could lose you-
but I could not ever resist you.
and that's really the thing about it, isn't it?
Only one of these sentences matters.
Just one.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
He lies next to me in the big red bed,
hair in patches
and smooth in circles.
An elbow propped that holds up his head
as he gazes and traces
the letters of the alphabet on my
places of the universe.
And he sighs deeply
as he throws down his head
as if to say,
Giving up. I'm giving up on this
and I think,
On us? Or just giving in-
but I don't say
because the conversation is the
most beautiful I ever heard.
-And the man wiggles and flops
like a child
with energy coursing out of his fingertips.
He loves me.
Such a simple act.
Love is such a simple act.
Hate he says, takes 'energy he don't have'-
and like is just warmed up soup.
'Love is easy, mother girl
love is easy... be easy back.'
In the big red bed, I trace the veins in his arms
to see where they'll lead me.
They never led me where I expected them to go.
it's Sunday, in this big old bed.
'The sun's up, gonna go to church
and pray for sins of the moon.
We'll just stay in these hot red sheets and pray right there.
might make more-'
And he says with a snakes slow rhythm,
'It's Sunday,
everybody knows Sundays were made for redeeming.'
Sunday-
and there is quiet throughout the house.
Sunday-
and the world left us for just these few.
See that beautiful color?
Umm hmm.
We are up to the good things,
the touching things- the things we need to be forgiving for.
We are up to things that shut off the world
And we swim in these sheets
and we become red.
sahn 3/29/15
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
Destroy me.
Take what you can from the middle.
Take that golden yellow moon-
that sherbert sunset in the center of how I exist,
**** it, take it!
And Stubbornly I'll be.
When all that is left is bones for the jackal to
satiate on
when all that is heard is bubbles popping
and the jaw creaking
from
the overuse of what was inside me-
When that dark and silken predator
lies lazy on it's back
with my contents fuming in its distention...
destroy me, do.
***** my remains
with huge heaving gusts of your gluttony.
Because you will.
Because I am too heavy to carry, I am too light to settle.
Oh, yes I'll be your posion,
and into every cell I will invade
marching with my army, marching with my anger
I will wiggle in your ear and chew through the pictures in your mind,
eating at the corners of everyone you covet most.
I'll call you in a singsong voice that does not end.
In every room you'll look to hear-
in every corner your try to hide from it.
I will flood your soul with my wrongdoings so you
carry mine as well as yours.
Yes, destroy me-
dust.
And you will perish from my digestion
and you will carry my heavy sins.
Oh, what is left? What is left?
Just the eternal weight of light
and you cannot eat that,
On light you can feast
but not thrive.
It will not still the noise
of the rotting wood
that sits solid and solitary
in the place
where someone stole
your exclusive rights
to feel
joy.
Sahn 3/26/2015
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 9:15 PM UTC
I am angry in the way that
bubbles in champagne
rocket towards air.
I am pretty-
in that beige and golden way.
That heat paints my face,
Scolds my cheeks-
like an iron to the crispest collar
of a well-dressed man.
And I am virile in the hot.
Lovely reds and pinks and
eyes that catch-
LaCross nets that
will not meet your gaze
lest you see the squall
I work so hard to hide.
I am breathless with my rage,
and oh, so beautiful! Finally.
In my pain,
I am dry and fragile
brittle leaves crunching underfoot,
the salt left careless by the sea.
Nothing grows in me-
nothing grows in me.
I am dead sea
and beauty floats boastful where
love cannot swim.
For I carry this grief
in the way a river stone
bears the weight of the rushing water.
The lovely
and the ruthless.
The heinous
and the clean....
the very worst of me
is the prettiest to see...
Naked before the judges table
I have no shame.
"Such a pity", they'll say.
"Such a beautiful girl,
all that anger in such a beautiful girl."
Sahn
3/24/15
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 11:38 PM UTC
I stretch, and stretch
up towards a place where my head is far
further above so
that I cannot hear the jet engine of your words.
I hear my bones creak
with the effort to get
away from the pollution
of your coal train ramming me.
I hear only my body
cracking like spring ice
as I rise, rise -
rise above your noise toxins
that settle like limp and sodden cardboard crowns
worn about your tortured head.
High above your hollow community
above your entitlement park,
above your tiny-
tinny voice.
I hear it. Your hateful sounds like poultry jibber
so far down in
atmospheres
below.
I laugh to hear your wordless squawl!
I stretch but now to bend
and see you
beneath my squishy toes.
Bend at the waist
to see who's nipping at my ankles
and I cry a tear of mirth.
A white rapid that
whisks your bitter apple groove
far away.
I stretch you gone.
I stretch you indifferent.
I grow myself pardoned, I grow my self free.
sahn
2/15/15
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 11:44 PM UTC
Rotted soul of good intention,
mine is an apple core
on an old black road
in a holy heat.
Sinner, slow down!
Sinner stop your dancing
and start praying
for your people
-mmmyes-
that they start praying
for you
child.
'Cause it's gonna take a churchyard full
of bake sales,
mmmhmm
and it's gonna take a winter full of galoshes by the church door
whoowee,
it's gonna take a village to save you, child.
Heathen, pull your skirt down!
stop them hips swaying left, slooow,
swaying right, sloooow
as you walk down that dirt road kicking up dust
like you was a young colt running.
Oh it's gonna take a lot saving,
Yessum, it's gonna take a lake a dunking...
Oh but Lord! It's gonna take a lot of praying,
Hallelujah, gonna need a lot of rosaries
to save your eternal life, girl
I am as rotten as a pit of peach,
dried and without yield. no value, no good.
Child, it's gonna take a revival to save this soul.
Mama, start that revival and save your babies soul.
sahn
2/6/15
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 12:02 AM UTC
it's so perfect.
so divine.
inside she finds
that safe place and
like
a marble is blue
like a gesture
is small
like yeast must rise-
like the cat's eye,
paw at you.
because
as the cat waits
with the sunbeam she plays.
the tea
and the teacup-
exquisitely she waits.
she waits.
empty she will.
so
deny
still
exquisitely
majestically
instinctively she waits.
on her own bone china
pretty little fragile
thing
on her own
she waits,
exquisitely she waits.
sahn
12/4/14
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC
*I have climbed 300 steps
and sat beside the butchers pets.
I have etched in marble stone
and rose in blankets made of bones.
I have danced with withered ******
and laughed with sinning pirate bores
I have taken flights of mind
marched in armies of mankind.
I have burned the church yard down
danced on every hot red mound
and dug out wells with pails of red
and to the children gave ****** bread.
I watched the sea swell with delight
Gave hope to those with endless night
I grieve by every paupers grave
like lovers tears for the newly saved.
I have sold off squares of skies
to melt them off in poisoned pies.
I have squander endless gold
from rich men's purse that I've cajoled
And I will drink my whiskey straight
and make a list of what I hate.
I will jump off areoplanes
crashing through cathedral panes
And I will topple endless trees
upset the nest of surly bees.
And if you don't contain my spill
keep your promise in good will
For I am simply lost at sea
waiting that you come for me.
For I am simply biding time
waiting for that love of mine.*
sahn 9/9/2014
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 2:24 AM UTC
I saw a man who was buying time
with the last of his pennies in a threadbare coat.
He whispered to me on the train that we caught
that a love that will waste, is one caught in one's throat.
sahn 11/9/14
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC