Disappearing

I feel my body getting smaller

inch by inch my stomach recedes

away from dining tables and dinner plates

away away away

from food and water and vitamins

and sustenance.

These tangible torturous things

disgust me

but keep me alive

& force me into

this life.

Starvation —

the sweetest relinquished relief

of life.

Wildflowers

Wildflowers penetrate the porous dirt

Mingling with the grasses

Unafraid to assert their presence in the fields. Wildflowers dance freely,

spreading seeds through the air

Along the music of the wind.

Wildflowers; bright yellow, purple lilac

A great contrast to the uniformity of grass.

Wildflowers rise wild, brave, and free. Alive.

A Conversation with my Bus Driver

“You’re going the wrong way!”

“The school’s that way!”

 

I trod away from university

A universe lies between me and the others. 

Boiling intensity

resonates in my mind

resonates in my bones

resonates in my soul.

 

“Am I good enough?”

 

More questions than answers flood my mind

But I doubt you have the time to answer.

You pander before the quickest release

Of the pedal that rests beneath your feet.

The bus’ engine roars, your voice quiets

My time to talk has ceased.

 

 

 

Image source: BlogTO

Who is Love?

I’ve had many lovers,

I’ve made love many times,

but my love was found in the reflection of me in;

your eyes

your soul

your way.

Fingers grip flesh so deep it pierces the skin,

hurting you, strengthening me,

we continue in this ritual of emotions,

too strong to be expressed physically,

into the moment before the release,

when two souls become one entity,

and leave bare bodies on exposed sheets.

Lucid dreaming as you thrust your energy into me,

Tangible pain yields tantric bliss.

 

You are love.

The Paradox

The need to write wakes me up in the night
Thoughts ricochet off of dreams, memories
Lucidity. Superego runs wild
Translucent clarity breeds vivacity.

Sharp focus without bifocal lenses
Breath trembles on cotton pillowcases
Merging the conscious with the imagined
Unconscious comprehension.

Past tears and traumas dominate this realm
Phallic fantasies frolic in my mind
Freeing pain but concealing its power
Reminiscing during REM Cycles.

What is Love? PT II

Is it meant to heal?
Releasing catharsis through veins like gravel poured over the roses in the concrete.
Layers of comfort and complacency piled on top of each other – sedimentary rock
Numb. Ash.
A natural disconnect forms an ecosystem of comfort, care, pressure, love.

A metamorphosis.
Transformation so great, it’s almost metapoetry.
Fear metastasized into strength in the soul of a new being
Bonded together with pressure, incubated in an atmosphere of trust
Love is what we breathe.

It can be heard in the song of the wind
Or seen in the dance of the raindrops
free-falling from the safety of the cloud to the callous rock
Yet landing on the tender web of a spider
Spun delicately, deliberately and at the perfect time.
Dampening our fortress –
Without sacrificing the safety of its home.