I wonder if the stars are certain Or if the sun ever has a doubt Does sugar cane wish it was sour Does red velvet wish it was black Do plans dream of spontaneity Do words get tired of letters Can numbers feel their value Can believers ever be stayers I wonder if lions ever…
I trashed more posts this month than ever. The older I get the more meaningless I feel words are. Mine specifically. Everything feels noisy. My skin. The sky. Your hair. The weight of failure is noisy. I keep failing. It keeps screaming. But the weight isn’t as heavy as I thought it would be. Maybe…
I chased rainbows When I was young Never caught one But a boy Kissed me For a quarter A mean girl Punched me And said I was mean I crashed my bike Cut off my toe Stepped on glass Burned my hands Sewed through My thumb I stopped Chasing rainbows And painted my own And…
You can’t see it But I’m shaking inside If my body were earth You’d feel the quaking Tremors are splitting My insides are flayed I’ve been sitting alone For weeks now No For months now And the landscape of me Has changed drastically Whoever I was, destroyed Whoever emerges I hope she’s free * I…
The vine grows Never straight Focus shifts Destiny calls Flowers bloom And then wilt Twisting And growing As vines do Caring not Where the sun Where the air Where the water Where the nutrients Come from They just grow Until that something For which they don’t care Disappears And then that vine Has to care…
The vine grows Never straight Focus shifts Destiny calls Flowers bloom And then wilt Twisting And growing As vines do Caring not Where the sun Where the air Where the water Where the nutrients Come from They just grow Until that something For which they don’t care Disappears And then that vine Has to care…
The song had words Only I could hear They passed by Crumbling corridors And floated Over cracked linoleum Drifted through Burnt up rafters And settled In the distant trees Beautifully loving words Spoken with my voice Just perched Far beyond reach And I am lonely Knowing my self love Lives in an orchard
There is a kind of knowing That lives in your heart It has no form or shape It has no empirical data It’s abstract action An emotional drawing That takes residence Like a cockroach Drunk on absinthe A horrible knowledge You know exists But your brain It’s a coward Not as brave as your heart…
What I’d like to tell you Will never pass my lips My words mean too much To end up changed, twisted Because that’s what you do Turn hankies into birds And people clap and cheer Then they point and jeer When you tell them I’m the one, the horrible one Turning birds into hankies When…
Sitting on a wire Surrounded By a murder Without intent Just space Restless Above malcontent Ghosts Wearing flesh Pretending At purpose But failing Inside Their own Distractions NOTE: I am noticing how my brain slips easily into distraction when I’m about to experience a depressive episode. It’s as if I’m being prepared for the experience.…
HASTYWORDS 