Stories · writing

Pressurized Sentiment

Sometimes being an adult feels like an elongated version of deciding what to play when you’re a kid

Run around until dusk and your only concerns are when lunch or dinner is.

I liked that because it was a lot simpler

You didn’t have a lot of options so you just sort of experienced whatever was in your path

I remember waking up without a plan and just being excited to get out and “explore” even though I could easily run around our neighborhood with my eyes shut,

But I always found something new. A family of rabbits, a conversation with a mockingbird, stashing a makeshift time capsule in the safe crook of a tree.

I really don’t like how far away that feels, sometimes. I get caught up in this day-to-day

Worrying over every word I say

Am I creative or am I just fueled by consumption of media

Am I smart or do I just parrot words that I hear

What part of me is me and what parts are a conglomerate of everything else?

And do I live for myself?

Hard to tell.

I have yet to sort it all out.

Poems · writing

Gut Punch

It started raining today before the clouds showed up

I’ve been chasing my tail in efforts to be enough

Slept through my alarm, cramps hitting hard,

Mom’s asking me about the broken-down car

I’m falling behind. The week hasn’t started and I want to give up, but,

You have to grin and bear it

You put up a fight

It’s the only way to break into light, happiness, laughter.

That’s what they tell me,

Even after I’ve fallen to the ground

They walk on by

“You’re not livin’ til you’re dyin’!”

What a gross goddamn lie.

And even if it’s true, it’s an awful thing to say.

Not everyone’s brains work that way

You don’t throw another stone at a person whose given up

Give them a hand when they’re feeling stuck

It won’t make the clouds go away,

But sometimes it helps to face the day

Poems · writing

Feverish

The orange blossoms on your sweet tooth yellow at me as I smile at you and I can’t gather these withering flowers with ugly dreams, nasty fiends, knocking at my door

What is it for?

Single melodies playing all around pretend to revel in its percussive sound

You know I’ll always be around

Until I’m not.

Who’s happy with their lot when all you are is what you’ve got

Distracted fingers memorize stop lights and bruises, alcoholic cruises melt into me and out of you

Liquid malnourishment

Find your tongue is spent working its way through the cash in my wallet

Blue rubber bands paperback hands jumping frogs and mildew incense

Innocence lost lost lost in every note

Feverish pursuit, bulbous trees taking root,

I’m too late.

Poems · writing

Wings

Would you love me if I disappeared?

The road is long and far from here

For there are places I must know

And though it is not my choice to walk alone

I will try to do so courageously.

Wandering through cobbled streets,

Laying to bed my suffering

Right up until it’s too much to bear.

I know I’ll only see your face everywhere

Walking behind me

Missing beside me

Brace my heart to face those fears

Cannot rely on someone who is not here. 

Breaking periodically throughout the day

Standing there with nothing to say

Nothing to do,

Nothing to do.

Without you, how could I go on?

Somehow I manage, walking along. 

Strangled bird’s song moves passed my lips

Standing on a precipice, I wonder,

Can a bird whose wings are lost truly fly?

Do not ask me, as I still have mine,

They’re only broken, now. 

Poems · writing

Nefelibata

Last night I dreamt of you again 

We met in the place where this first began

When we left people behind in favor of each other

Inconsiderate now, but we couldn’t think of another 

Options are hard to find when you’re too in love for peace of mind.

I met you in that place and you didn’t disappear

You pulled me close,

I breathed you in,

The whole world seemed to resume its spin

I cannot tell you the vividness of this dream.

Lifting my chin, you said to me,“When all is too much to bear, you can come and find me here. It will not go away, but you can stay, and I promise not to disappear.”

As you whispered this to me, your body acquired a kind of translucency.

Still I held onto you, as I so often do, when we’re hidden away from the world. 

Waking up as you disappeared,

I knew you were still far from here.

But, still drunk on the remnants of that vision,

Something about it left me shaken

Can spirits collide in the dead of night? 

Did I really see you there before we said goodbye?

As the morning brightened, sharpened my mind,

I left those fantasies behind

There’s something to say, though, about finally coming home,

Even if just for a little while

Old stuff · Poems · writing

Never Enough

Inspiration fine as silk blown away by a fluttering of eyelashes, a pair of eyes too bright, a connection from one soul to another

Too fast.

Too soon.

Blooms grow from these solid bones this sordid flesh of mine

No one means to hurt not really

The mind can be a comforting thing in the face of our misery, never thinking twice of the wounds it will leave behind.

Take a breath, try to speak, and find you have nothing to say

They can see it all. Staring into yourself you know there is a flame within trying so hard to flicker out failing time and time again

Children learn to tie their shoes to count by two

Children learn to tie up strings to fall in love with dirty things

Fingers tracing new horizons we color outside the lines

Dreaming is my drug of choice the only side effect a heart void of this world and its inhabitants

Every day the same causes a shift of the beat inside, strumming in staccato the words and visions I cannot reclaim as I try to explain in these too little sentences some desire deep inside

Beat yourself black and blue marvel at the change as blood attempts to flow again through your broken veins

[Written sometime in 2013/2014]

aUtHoRs nOtE: Writing the tags makes me realize how sad some of my stuff is and it’s a little depressing LOL.