My body-an arrow about to be released.
my mind- racing ground
for thoughts to collide,
disappear into dread and dismay.
there is War.
all that i knew to be right,
Collapsed in seconds.
now buried under debris of hatred.
i am in between, always a bystander.
After 15 years of almost belonging
Then 26 of accepting the strangeness,
yet unmistakably,
still there
even when comfortably cushioned by my sweet life
my core is a despair
and helplessness of the land that bore me.
*artwork-“unlocking nine locks” by laura simms via touchdrawing.com
| frozen hand of mercy squeezes my throat mercilessly every time he is near. ——- i failed he is down so i am screaming soundlessly so he won’t hear so he falls slowly-er so he falls on the soft ground on the green grass on someone else’s hands 35 years old child i pray for ariel to be back |
*artwork-“fatigue” by tom bennett via saatchiart.com
I grew to hate the aftertaste of your kisses.
It lingers for hours.
My home suffocates under the shield of your cigarettes
And leftovers of lust.
You’ve been worshiped for so long
That now I can barely take you.
I am sick of hearing your impotent words
And your once mind-bending touch
Went sour.
I am overdosed.
Yet so scared of letting go.
*artwork-“waiting for the sun” by cameron gray via fineartamerica.com
| “pattern”, it is called. her little personal drama. all of a sudden – a whirlpool, echoing voice of sticky old trauma. “don’t wait for me yet” |
*artwork- from “hedgehog in the fog” masterpiece animation by yuri norshteyn, 1975
| he says “i love you so much”… does he acknowledge the burden? the rules are unclear. hedgehogs in the fog we are we watch scary movies, it’s all about tea, raspberry jam, and stars. |
*artwork-“The Delusional Confusion” by Darwin Leon
| redhearted statements of love and trust and vice versa. and mere vice my mind is a mess and i keep messing with it it feels like rubbing one palm against another so familiar, but can you describe it? my thoughts…those ones covered with spiderwebs an old attic stuffed with redundant words and gestures and i stand among them like in someone else’s dream where gravity rules work no more and rhymes have no meaning. i know that i have to hand him the tickets because i invited him for this ride. he says the transportation was all legal and this place was never visited before. an attic or a cellar |
*artwork-“Christina’s World” by Andrew Wyeth.
| imagine metal lid over a deep hatch. heavy. rusty. covered with dust. way out of use. i tried my best to keep it closed __________________ |
*artwork- frustration by mehran roozbahni
| she says i’ve got to try to like this little girl and i wonder, what is the way? i wish i could friend her on facebook she says i’ve got to stop pushing her away, she says i should be empathetic… coward. i hide among all these names that barely have faces |
*artwork by david dough, via daviddough.com
|
he is my child |
*artwork – osho zen tarot
| within is blurred no space for consciousness for days, until it feels like who are you kidding, girl? and then, i beg this little hungry creature to let me mourn and cry inside the biggest room as i have to ache for two i want to let these sounds out fly out of my throat like my soul does every time i am being left. don’t want to hide now. yet don’t know how to stay. i am so close. so far from middle. _________________________ i want to sign up for every possible |
on my way up 