*artwork-“unlocking nine locks” by laura simms via touchdrawing.com
|frozen hand of mercy
squeezes my throat mercilessly
every time he is near.
he is down
so i am screaming soundlessly
so he won’t hear
so he falls
so he falls
on the soft ground
on the green grass
on someone else’s hands
35 years old child
he did cry twice
when i hugged him close
and he let me touch,
then for the briefest moment,
and i’ve panicked
and now he is
a tiny shadow of the man he used to be
when he was 20.
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
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”
well, it’s too late,
the mechanism’s on
her heart sings that
*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.
thus, my love is entwined with your guilt.
i make you sip it, in swallows you are able
i thought. and i missed.
you ask for mercy and i am letting go.
hedgehogs in the fog
so curious, but then
disturbed, choking on ambiguous fears,
made up tornadoes and delirious tremors.
we watch scary movies,
you laugh as i cover my eyes,
yet you hold me closer.
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
whatever is this place
i am scared
and i eager to be held
and i need eternal promises.
*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
pushed with all the strength i had
and, boy, i may be strong with my eyes shut
but i received the permission, and i can not hold it anymore
it is free
and it is endless
and i don’t even understand what it feels like
*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,
stop erasing her from this hard disk
on the back of my mind,
mossy used to say
she says i should be empathetic…
for something that i can not really grasp?
i hide among all these names that barely have faces
just so i won’t have to see my own
and there they go
so precious so unimportant
i keep this puzzle of pieces with no unique form
i choose where to place them
while i lay in my bed and do not remember
whose stomach is pressed against my back.
*artwork by david dough, via daviddough.com
he is my child
a gale that brings no clear harm
a boy that is a girl
he reaches out for
i am a sterile mother
dried out womb
can not contain
can not expel
all that is left
and sour words, unripe, are thrust into
this barren air
i bring it with me
everywhere i go
*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
treatment session. give me anything
that will bring me closer.
i want to touch, and go deeper
and stop being scared all the fucking time
and i want to be mad
and fight with my teeth and nails
this time not for my aging body
but for my fucking ageless spirit.