A Pale Scrawl
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Both in a breath

7/25/2017

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Picture
We are taught to use our words
The lie of sticks and stones
While bone heals
More readily than soul


I can craft a compliment
From consonants and vowels
Punctuated with love
Just as much as I am able
To forge a sword in hatred
Sharpened on the stone of my rage


I can cure or cut with the assembly of syllables
I have done both in a breath
But it is in my silence where the volumes speak
Verbs in a vacuum
Sucked up and away
That you know I am lost to you
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Widespread and weightless

7/19/2017

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Picture
We arrive here as beings
Bound by stardust
The breaths follow
Loudly expressing our disconsolacy

Torn from the sky
Thrust into a loud, bright world
When all we knew
Was a subtly thrumming darkness

We want to go back
Some part of us
Always wishing for what was lost
To be made particulate and floating again
Or perhaps it's just me
Desperate for the simplicity of aimlessness

The pressure of goals
The complexity of wholeness
Held here by gravity

My cells remember
When I was widespread and weightless
I must remind them I am temporary
This time of jostling and bustle
Will end more quickly than it began

They will be free to roam again
Many years from now
When I am gone
Having been here sufficiently long
To begin asking for release
From the bonds that held so fast

My memories and those of me will fade
Dispersed to wind and waves
Absorbed eventually elsewhere
In someones and somethings else












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Each staccato tick

7/6/2017

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Picture
This spot
Is an angry red
A sting and a tang
When touched to my tongue
And I can't stop
Poking at it
Wanting to hasten healing
Impotent in the face of the second hand
Laughing at me
With each staccato tick


I'm not better
Something fresh always replaces it
Somewhere and something else
To worry
There is no salve for this
No unguent to soothe
Only acclimation to new pain
As it fades to background noise
Becoming a new instrument
In the symphony of scars


Can you hear it
Playing louder
As you approach?
I tried to warn you








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