The snuffed candle misses the wick

Its always hard to be creatures stuck in amber at the moments of contention
To be
When the world doesn’t know what it is
Leaving us fighting for a world we think it should be
And becoming so so tired

It’s these pivot moments which wear us away
Snapped joint cartilage
Trying to keep it together
Long enough to heal

Harder now when we are not well
Where there is no certainty to hold close
And all cries out for terrible change
And the spinning wheel

We all bump the table, hoping the result will last just a little longer
We burned out matches
Flames dead
Still trying to get the spark
And light the brushfire

Tired outpaces cells cross hatched on hands

Watch the dappling leaves
Bright green
Reflecting light
Mirrors with depth
With life

Watch through windows
Set to filter out life
Filter out smells
Filter out the chaos
The order of passing

Cold inside while the world bakes
Trapped inside
Hamster on the wheel

Shuffle out
Get in my truck
Heat burns into bones
Quiet and rattle
These the only moments of silence
Instead of music

Let the panic rush past
Once more into poison
Just a quick dip
Then through

Long enough to sleep
To feel safe
Behind locked doors
Which sit behind locked doors
Which sit behind locked doors

Drift heavy under lidded eyes

I no longer yearn for a past I can never have. For a life given up, no matter how much my semi-worrying off hand comments may make it seem otherwise. I want things now just out of my reach. Things in my life and in my future. Which sometimes seem so far away. However, I know that they are not. Nevertheless, I can’t keep from straining forward. As if attempting to reach that last inch to that last leaf, so far above my head.

It is still good to acknowledge though. That that darkness in me will never flee, though now they are merely half serious jokes. That I once loved deeply. That I again love deeply. That what was will never be again. And that’s ok. What is, is much better than an ephemeral dream. No matter how beautiful.

Split bell resonance

Nothings wrong
Nothings wrong
Nothings wrong

Nothings wrong
Except I’m tired

Nothings wrong
Except I teared up for no reason other than imagining someone holding me and telling me that everything would be okay

Never mind that I don’t know what everything is

Nothings wrong
But my words come slowly if at all
What was a torrent is now leached slowly to the surface
Barely a trickle
Barely a mouthful

Nothings wrong
Except the distance and the daily

Nothings wrong

Winter takes what little is left

Make a fiddle from my bones
Shape me to useful tone
Anything is better than being alone
This incarnation whose heart was stone

Take flower from cracked deep marrow
Drink me and dance the yarrow
This single tear over my barrow
Or feed me into the hollow

This light, this love did change me
Though sullen shores beckon on bleak wings
Hope lightened the burden but broke my back
Times passage, preceded through

So drink my blood sugar lows
And hyacinth petals fall in order rows
Or fake your laughter, smiling bows
But I tarry never after

This simple crime that sings to sleep
Wakes the dreamer but breaches deep
Of brittle words to interpret, keep

We bite and struggle
suck air and tremble
Simpler still to heartbeat slow
And in the springtime