On Facebook

Every day

on facebook

I want to post how sad I am

and that I cry

in the night

I would like to talk about the pain that closes off my throat

but instead I write about the weather

It’s sunny today!

Sigh, rain again.

or maybe something about the fog.

Never mentioning the fog in my brain

or the rain of tears

that tempers the raging fire

my maddness has become.

I have become adept

at hiding.

Careful that no one should see

the crazy hanging out of me

like the tatty lace hem of a none too clean slip

peeping from beneath a more respectable garment

too hastily donned.

I cannot tell you where it hurts

or why

or even that it hurts at all

lest I explode, or begin to cry and never stop

dissolving myself into a puddle

So I tell you I am fine

because there is nothing else

for me to say.

Spring Forward

Spring Forward

Silenced

All the tears that I shed

I shed inside

keeping them lodged in my throat

until they steal my voice.

the caged bird does not sing

not because she is too sad

although she is

but because

she has no voice

all the bars of my cage

are self constructed

and yet

I still cannot escape

                                                                                   

Eye Trap

Eye Trap

Echenichia

Today

Today I spent 1/3 of my wealth

A full third of my available capital

not knowing when,

or even if

it will be renewed

and bought a flower.

Not even a blooming flower

or one growing

already in a pot

But rather,

a bare root

leafless and needing much care

needing to be soaked and planted

tended and cared for

watered and watched

without any assurance that it will survive long enough to bloom

a foolish expenditure

and yet

necessary to my belief in the future

if I too

   am to survive long enough to bloom

It’s Spring!

It's Spring! 

Tree Line

Tree Line

Glory Road

Glory Road

G’night

G'night

Dead

On the days

when it hurts so bad

that the bird inside me cannot sing

and instead hops about pointlessly

like a one-legged seagull

balancing endlessly on the edge of nothing

When I spend days on end

creating salty seas

and smaller puddles

with tears I shed for no apparent reason

I think of you

and for a brief moment

cease to imagine how restful it would be

if I were dead.

 

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