Here I held
A circular indent
Ellipsing
As a hole
Category: lost
Memory (day 1596)
Your heart rings on the bars of my faint memory
Tingling windows that never seem to open right
While lights flicker from unknown sources
As if silent messengers in night’s sky.
I touch my lips and think about a sensation
Once so familiar to my heart that it left an ocre mark
And scalded the new moon twice since
Leaving rays of blood light shifting my reminiscence.
I cannot wait here long, for leaves follow my mind
Upon a downward spiral to freshly rooted dirt
Awaiting new seeds of our ancient memory
And lifting lines that varicose their way back to my heart.
Windows (day 1595)
Windows make passing seasons
Feel another world away
And here I sit inside
Passing my time
Lost in wanderlust
Crispy Wallows (day 1593)
Crispy wallows and snakes following ancient trails down spirals, leading only to a perfectly spherical, blood-moon-packed dirt bubble where one thousand and one perpendicular lines scarred concave smoothness, remarkably resembling an eerie odessical scene of Labyrinth, David Lynch infused simplicity and snakes. With an omnipresent light leaving no shadows, even in such depths, that echoed with every heartbeat snaking it’s way downward, downward, downward until the downward was no longer downward but stuck in a simple sphere, simply circled as if snakes and ladders were suddenly trapped in an empty crystal ball bubbling with misunderstood and toppled (read:shook) reason that inhabitants were too impatient to digest, leaving perpendicular marks in frightened terror as retraced steps traced their snaking along ancient trails back into the under-root of an atmospheric tragedy they had become familiar with and called home.
Drying Grime (day 1591)
Loser my integration
Chop all my hair off
And crawl around muddy
With a holey umbrella
Crackling at Gods
Who have tormented
Mute city sidewalks
Just as lame bullywicks
Who discard butts
Like scabs they
Incessantly pick at.
And sweep drying grime
Across squished bananas
To make a heart beat
Again tomorrow.
Just Fine (day 1587)
Left my memories
On an empty bank today
Singing an old song
And my heart bleeds on
Turned to a broken arrow
Shot through the dark
Loosely wrapped with a
Half written love letter
Leather upon my wrists
Empty and holding it tight
Got a wing on my mind
Baby, I’m doing just fine.
Pen Blotches (day 1575)
I cannot grasp what it will mean to send you off again,
What it will mean to let you go;
Finger tips to finger tips and not looking back
And hearing the roar of big jet planes
Overcome my trembling heart
That fleeting moments have left disoriented,
Direction home now jumbled and unrecognizable
Like the clouds you’ll soon be looking down upon.
I cannot find solace in a text to voice ratio,
In a line to line heartbeat filled of stories from afar.
But I will write until my pen blotches all my
Blank pages sad, and leaves my exclamation marks
Simple puddles in a mess.
So come back soon,
Before my heart begins to beat too soft a vibration,
And my pen runs out of black.
In Love (day 1574)
I am hopelessly in love
With words I cannot explain,
With a world so far away
Lost into the abyss of time.
Yet me, in my stubborn nature
Crawl, nay, scramble through rubble
To find exact duplications
That fit my heart just right
And let this feeling linger
Until my eyes close
And heart beats on.
Cried Wolf (day 1563)
My undocked pride scraped noisily
Along an upturned desk;
Persophony had come down low
To loiter around a summer pool.
A loud memory cried wolf
As the phone chimed a familiar tune;
Prometheus at last
Wrangled to the bone.
Deadly as a fool to begin,
My yearning wasn’t a sin;
Lashed out with sharp teeth
– Crying, Demeter’s subtlest revenge.
Hologram (day 1561)
I learned my anxiety is a hologram.
I felt heavy steps upon late sleeps
That woke me up into darkness.
I lunged deeper into an evil battle
Spoken in tears and whispers,
Draining out sweat and
Tearing my limbs, one by one.
I shuffled my restlessness
To steal my ‘buts’ and ‘nos’
From every word I heard this voice speak
Until even I had lost this anxious feeling,
Leaving me reflecting previous states
Of a captured image,
Shifting from frame to frame.