I really want to
I really feel like finding the motivation inside,
To reach out and scream,
To run until my lungs are burning
And life’s pain ceases to hinder me.
I want to jump and swing
And yell like a charging elephant
With my eyes glaring down
Doers of injustice.
I want to slam my fists in to walls
And flip over tables that seem impossibly immobile
Tearing down pictures
Smashing plates and pottery.
I really feel like seeing red,
But then I remember how delicately precious
Life’s wings are
As I watch a bird fly by,
As I catch the sun setting
Leaving behind a gentle golden gradient
Filling my eyes and heart
Until my inhale matches my exhale
And my toes tingle happily at peace.
I believed just so strongly that you would be the one
So much so that I chairiscuro’d my heart into day and night,
Night and day.
So longing with my open arms I stood uninterested,
Drooping at edges of my sanity
That left holes so deeply imprinted into my unknown matter
I had successfully reprinted what I’d callously called
“Out of Stock.”
Now? Now I would like to re-brand my interests,
Remove all the old artifacts that so delicately had collected
Dusty particles of my memory,
And remind myself how little it mattered in the end –
Dust being all that could sprinkle our dearest dreams –
As raindrops came tumbling down upon a rainbow I’d ignited.
So my desert teardrops exclaimed to my heartbeat, strong,
Oh this desperado desolato,
In an anguish that I could not anticipate…
Because spring had not yet sprung.
Choose a delicate dance
With sitars, tablas
And magical finger symbols
To gaze upon at request.
Choose a fine hearted view,
Wobbling blue birds
And squabbling hens.
Choose elaborate decor,
Gray walls with fancy lace,
Antlers painted gold,
Desire painted red.
For nothing else matters.
A drop of rain touched my nose today
And I bent down amidst my garden,
Which left me thinking to myself
How lovely it was to be alive.
That this was alive.
So as I delicately pulled
Each raspberry I had bent to pick
I understood the message
Was to inhale, exhale.
Because delicate sparks
The sor-cerers pot.
Can you sit
For a while
Sing me a song
Like there is love
You’re in love
With a sound.
Through my heart
To the ground
[and the soundtrack to the poem, on repeat if you wish]