Bathtub
- The feeling crawls under my skin like worms Triple check the lock, slip off my shoes Reflect in the mirror, pulling my skin into unrecognizable contortions I want to scrub away the feeling and watch it twist down the drain I run a bath, femenine and delicate My body slips into the tub and my mind slips into unguarded ignorance I had checked the locks, hadn't I? I close my eyes, sublime warmth eases the worry in my stomach The door creaks and I am in bliss Violently, my warming body is shoved under the water Soon to be cold.
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Edge
- My feet dangle off the edge, Heavy pendulums above the creek. I suppose at one point there used to be a bridge here, I wondered why it was built at all. The concrete was nothing special, just, concrete. And there were other places narrow enough just to hop over to the other side. Now it has fallen, greenstick edges and broken pieces, Whoever built the bridge is long gone now. The edges are not sharp anymore, The persistent seasons round them out, taking away all the pain. I lay on the edge of the bridge that connects to the floor of the woods. The sun is setting but winter darkness is different than summer darkness, Thick snow reflects the life still left after an ice storm, illuminating the remaining hope. When spring comes her fingertips will engulf the life that the snow tried to. Icicles hang off every inch of the woods, reaching out, trying to reach their home, To fall ultimately to the frozen ground, but they must take turns. I close my eyes, my head races with the thought of snow and ice and spring and life. I lay soaking in the cold. There is a special headache that cold produces, It starts in the ears and moves to the front of your head. The snow banks of worry melt away and take off the edge. I feel the relief in my toes and in my nose. Then there was hunger, starting in my stomach and rising to my mouth, The good kind of hunger. I laid on the bridge, the once upon a time bridge. And I thought about the edges. And I thought about the cold. And I was the only one in the world. Absence - When the sun rises and you do not I will crouch on my knees and find poetry in the injury, to pride in the image of your absence my crooked spine. I have pieced a language that can tilt the face you hid from the light solaris, so far away burns brightly for you our orbit, a bowl hugging the rim as the matter falls apart, it collects at the bottom beneath the dipper's gourd I have found you. I'll take us home. @starrypoopoo on Instagram
A Universe
- We lock eyes, suddenly lost in a Universe Right here, right now, I would move mountains for you. I would paint beautiful sunsets of iridescent pinks, purples, and blues simply if you asked me to. I would find a way to walk across the ocean just for the possibility of seeing you on the other side. You look away and that Universe is erased. Reality is remembered. I’m reminded of what happened when we tried, and those fantasies disperse. An ailment of the heart: thinking about an impossible future; one made inevitable by the past. (note to self)
- Wait until tomorrow Slow down--you have not yet moved. Your place in the universe is stable Stationary, hidden, stunning! Slow down--revel in it. Tomorrow, you will not yet have moved Please, friend, wait until then. When I think about people My heart tends to soar They all have unique qualities Down to the Core They love who they love And they live the way they live But as long as they love others That is the biggest gift they can give The good and the bad The ups and the downs We are all humans who are different Who should all wear crowns. |
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