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Tuesday, March 5, 2013


No songs were sung when you were born.
I looked into your filmy eyes and felt no change
Of heart. and Souls above danced high, no blessings down for you
You wiggled tiny hands and beat at wind.
I held you nonetheless and pressed you to my chest
Tried to absorb you into what was me, once.
I look at you know and wish I had knew you then
Really knew you when you first entered the world.
As everything is new, sharp and blurred at once
Fuzzy outlines making solid scrapes on your new skin.
Milky body illuminated one time among many.

Later, you became the apology I could never bring myself to say aloud
So I whispered it to you. You grew with "I'm sorry" written into your skin
And slashed across your face, and I hated you for tethering me here.
Unbeknownst to you, I was a fly amongst a sea
And meant for things transcended, things past the plane.
I want to press flowers to your nose and into your mouth
Until you cease, and I cease myself.


I always want to write when I feel inadequate or frustrated or lonely
but I'm not sure if it's because it helps or if thats what I've been trained to do
I scratch at paper. ink beads like blood.
and I don't feel any better.
I mean eventually I get over whatever made me mad in the first place, but wasn't that inevitable?
what am I doing?
documenting my twisted little feelings into something more tangible?
I don't think I am made to last here.
I don't think I have the stuff.
I want to go home. I don't even know where that is.
so I stay.
patch up holes where I can, mend bridges I set fire to.
and I don't feel any better.
if I had to describe how I feel right now it'd probably be cracked or bruised or something
something that says  I have some distant awareness of nothing I feel ever really being permanent.
I feel broken all the same.
same to you I'd like to cry.
I know that's some sort of catharsis, maybe after I'll know how to move my feet like I knew how all along
like maybe I had too much traction.
my cheeks are dry. and I am still cracked or bruised or something.
I wish I had someone to take up all my mantles
to catch all my torch passes
I probably do, I'm just too lazy to try
not too lazy to type
and I don't feel any better.


I ran on dirt roads and eggshells to get to you.
Fix me, I said, Awakened.
You are the eastern sun
Torn from grass and gems
Backwards praise from gods unseen.
Rise up, and take me with you to someplace without shadow
Leave empty behind. Torn up.

Glass mixes with diamond flakes, taunting
We will know better than to cloud our eyes with beauty.

There are wings stuck to my bones and I don't know how to open them
I want to be cut open, they pick at the waste I've made.