I feel nothing but the empty;
surging, huge inside me,
filling all my spaces
and silencing all my songs.
This world always told me
I can never belong.
Always reaching to reshape me,
pressing me against the mold,
forcing out all the colors.
I look at the mirrored grey
and I imagine the rainbow
and all the ways I was painted
before you had your way.
Looking out this little window
upon the expansive grey,
I wonder: who stole your light
and made you believe in shadows?
All the thieving generations,
blindly, grabbing at what is gone,
hurting all their babies,
snuffing out the little lights,
too painful to look upon.
This angry, raging circle,
cutting as it spins.
But why not
turn the lights back on?
Category: Poetry
082121-0513
eggshell fragile
with new skin
freshly shedding the old
sitting here in the sun
not brave enough yet to venture
recalling all the things
that I thought made me
and suddenly realizing
I’m none
I’m only this
bare
naked
new
nearing the last days
but always just born
still discovering
everything around me
is awe and luxury
always
still so new
standing on this earth
I can never be old
forever just a child
confused
seeking
lonely
hoping for the answers
and realizing I have none
080222-0152
Broken dreams scattered at my feet
confetti hope flutters all around me
Just another diagnosis
another tagline
This body betrayed me
stole the self I imagined
Now I am left with all these pieces
trying to put something together
080222-0145
The misery is pouring down
the pain is coming in
no changing the weather
Another day of rain
yet, I still sing when it rains
I let myself look for rainbows
I check the clouds for silver
and hope there’s a little gold
082121-0430-2
I dream of just a normal day.
A day without pills
One without appointments
and not having pain
I dream of a single day
that I could do anything
run or dance or sing
and not being afraid
Just a single day
for doing anything
catching butterflies
or painting trees
and sipping on tea
Just one day
A single day
without any compromises
and without surprises
no broken promises
and no delays
Just a jump out of bed
and yell at the sky kind of day
082121-0430-1
I’m tired of being sick
It’s not sleeping, despite the fatigue
Then falling asleep when trying to be awake
I don’t want to be unpredictable
with sick calls, no shows and late arrivals
people figure that I’m not invested
Being Second
I am tired of being the second choice.
There is no doubt that they love me
but that’s not the same as being first.
Denial
How dare you?
Calling yourself justice?
Calling yourself the father?
Declaring yourself love?
042722-0630
My fragile flesh now fails me
While my mind remains the same.
A prison of flesh and bones
I’m bound to this body.
An essential part of what I am.
Yet, this tangible stuff,
is not the essential stuff.
That which cannot be seen nor touched
Truly makes me what I am.
Do not judge me
for the tears I cry today
As I grieve the self I once imagined
and now know can never be.
Chronically Tired
When I say I’m tired of being sick
I’m talking about more then headaches
And the slipping of my joints.
The appointments with judgmental doctors…
Continue reading “Chronically Tired”
Zebra Pig 