I woke up knowing it was time. Only last week I was told about what was growing inside of me. They said it didn’t belong there. We are ready they said. Staring into its soon to hit nonexistence, the bitterness and guilt erupted in me, smashed against the whiteness of the room, leaving me in no control as I felt the cold pliers Inside me. Kaput. The end. Of life.
Teacher. Learner. Seeker. Doer. Thinker. Dreamer. Adventurer. Risk taker. Realist. Passionate. Harmonizer. Rules bender. Chaotically creative. Constructively self destructive. Non conformist. Complicated. Trend setter. Nocturnal. Easily high on sugar. A pragmatic escapist. A brutally honest critic. hard to convince . harder to impress. Good at wearing masks. And tearing others’ masks too. Believer in the fluidity of identity. Neruda, TS Eliot, Plath and Woolf - my inspirations. Shadows. Silences. Subconscious. Perfectionist. Individualistic. Detest regimentation. Second hand books, bubbles, balloons, rain drops dancing on the windshield of a fast moving car, lakesides, seasides and mountains make me happy. So do cupcakes, wine, freebies in expensive hotels, the last page of a good book, handicrafts and the smell of grass. post-it notes define me. cleaning is therapeutic. Mathematically challenged. Milk is my drug.Stagnation petrifies me,so do snakes and spiders. Lost a friend 6 years ago. Stopped writing poetry. I imagine. I’m a survivor.
Crush of holy hands on blue skin of a flame was the wet revenge of a withering rose. That defiant streak bursts with knowledge of a sin. White and black, this was me and my unwrapped flesh. Dirty glory of
Much can be said But we speak in hushed tones Curt with our responses Hiding behind the wall of vulnerability We hold our breaths in anticipation Who will be the first to crack ? Unsightly in the walls of protection
I see a place with starless skies. I see a dark smooth world endlessly a float in the black, its star long since blinked out. Covered with small closely spaced geodesic domes. Geodesic domes all interconnected, all with conduits leading
It happens so often, that i forget the coffin. Forget the existence of the end, when I’ll lay engraved beneath the land. Forget that one day i’ll be all alone, all that I’ve known, will be unknown At some moments