I’ve heard people say “I am colorblind” when the topic of racism arises. I know what they mean to say… “they” meaning white people like me… mean to say they love all races equally. I may have even said it before myself. But I’ve come to understand why it’s not helpful. Furthermore, why the concept…
They say the more you love someone the more it hurts to lose them. They say it’s worth it. But I don’t know who “they” is. I’ve watched people dear to me lose the love of their life and… they say different things. They want what they had back because to be without them feels…
I went off my medication. It isn’t doing me any good. I still hurt. I still cry. I still mess up. I still feel worthless. It’s been years. My normal. It’ll always be part of who I am. The guillotine fell Quick and sharp Cut all the tears The screams short The body left…
There are people who build cities on top of volcanic fields. And they live there. People build lives in desperate towns. And they die there. People grow up in fast cities and slow farm towns and simply exist there. Such a big world to live in… Are you HOME where you are? I’ve always had…
The whispers dissipate Like shadows, melting On frosted window panes And the words free fall Like snowflakes filling in A million hollow footsteps Where will the tears go Or the laughter we sowed Where will the kisses land Or the hugs that we loved Where will the words go When all the ears go deaf…
The door stands open Just a slivered crack Just perfectly enough To see the universe Swimming lazily by As if on a movie screen Just perfectly enough To feel its icy cold sigh Creep sneakily through On tipsy drunken toes Just perfectly enough To see smiling moons Flirting with the stars And taking it too…
She swallows A small rainbow And closes her eyes Letting the music Swim in her blood Windows down Static wind blowing As the tempo rises Quickening her pulse Lift off, she flies alone Through cloudy skies Lost inside the blue So afraid of falling Of failing everything Of believing her heart When it’s so often…
Worry is a creative soul Knocking sense around Like alphabet blocks Building wooden castles Stuffing them with dreams Just to watch them burn Carrying extra demons In case the devil alone Isn’t enough to destroy The human she’s become
The orange furnace Becomes but embers Upon its final breath The charred trunks Stand tall and dark And it’s quiet… As if completely Exhausted and worn From a battle It could not fight Energy burned off Damaged and broken Nothing is welcome In this sad place Silently standing And waiting… For the sun to shine…
Love and sunshine Caress the surface Penetrate the skin Warming feelings That needed light Making our souls Beautifully happy Full of hope again
HASTYWORDS 