Roots

the roots clung tightly, yet stretched at the same time

old birch wrapped its limbs around brick and mortar; hugging the air with it’s wrinkled wood

she danced beneath it, singing a song older than the wind that swept her curls as she moved

when she got very still, she could feel the whole world circling around her

time lept on, as it seems to do

the girl grew and she grew, she reached and stretched and soon she could reach the tallest of smallest limbs on the birch

she perched where the tree met the limb, at a crossroads of sorts

sharpening her hunting knife and carving letters of loves, peeling apples and bowing down to the clouded sky, the jets, the stars, and the moon as it rose above the mountain to the east

seasons passed, as they tend to do

the girl lay on the bed of earth ‘neath the tree as the leaves became yellow and orange then brown before joining her to rest

she wondered and kissed and loved, and soon she couldn’t be still anymore

snow tucked the tree in, and the girl marched away, far away from the tree; determined to never set eyes on it again

she followed the tracks, the flowers, the roads, and the people

she looked everywhere for this freedom she felt in her belly

she backflipped and front flipped, she swam, and she drowned

she found herself beneath a pile of rubble, just to lose herself in the mist yet again

she found herself in other’s arms, only to find they weren’t her after all

she scavenged, cried, worked and worked and worked some more

one day on her lunch break, the woman found herself eating under a birch tree…

this tree was smaller than the one she used to swing from

she touched the tree, grasping for the comfort it once gave her, but expecting nothing

time to stop fighting… said the tree to the girl

the woman rolled up her lunch, and walked back into her adult life

that evening, the woman picked up her own little girl

she held the little girl tightly, just as the tree used to do to her

in which she saw her roots, her limbs, her scars, and leaves

and she regretted not one of them

Rhythm

layed you on my breast
eternally pressed on my shoulder now
the days turn to longer days
the micromoments of me and you

the rocks; you rocked me
you expected me to be there, so i was
and we will never be so entwined again

your hands are bigger now
reach for more than before
imprints of us locked inside my jaw

you could cut someone with your eyes
you sliced me in half
i was looking up at the white ceiling
motionless; why did i want to do this again

rewind
splash on the floor
you dancing as you do
rhythmic and hard

you weren’t even crying
i wasn’t either
it wasn’t our romance yet

you would take and i would give
it felt endless, but there was a beginning
there was an end; there always is
now, you breathe the life into my throat

Photo Cred

Something That You Lost

holding onto something that you lost
i lost it too; i help you look
skimming above and beneath
above and beneath

we are just professional bicyclists
and the wheels blew off

riding on the pegs
time lapse
time lapses
time warps

holding onto something that you lost
i lost it too; i help you look
skimming above and beneath
above and beneath

stomping out every blacktop dream
all the toys are still in the box
all your toys are still in the box
why the fuck are you trapped in a box

domed skies; fireflies
so we climb to the tallest point in town
it overlooks the same town that it’s always been
i look to you and you to me, but we see different things

different things

Photo Credit

Relief

you can pretend until remnants are slipping off that sculpture
you will never get away with it alive
it will eat you or i will
boo bitch; my morals will haunt you until the day you die

and you pathetically tell yourself you protect her; while you let him use and abuse her when convenient for him
it’s “too painful” so your chin runs in the other direction
it might scar your “perfect” reputation you try to believe you uphold
prom queen; fucking phony

most people with half an eye see through your narcissistic charm
why do you think he ended up this way, sugar?
i’ll give you a 20 letter hint… it’s not the one you blame

you’re ice cold; well i’m hot as hell bitch
so feel my wrath
because it’s coming… man it’s coming

play with me; i triple dog dare you
you think you’re a lion
honey, i’m mixed; all three
pit bull, lion, bear
and i will devour every last bit of your facade after i slash you to scraps

you can pretend until remnants are slipping off that sculpture
you will never get away with it alive
it will eat you or i will
boo bitch; my morals will haunt you until the day you die

and i pray to the grass skies i can taste that drop of relief in the cool, black water
when it rains; you will feel me
you won’t forget me, but we will be long gone

Photo Cred

Red Monarchs

monarchs sleeping just below the shag carpeting
spurts of red emerge occasionally
wings outstretched like two blades
as we sit around on the memories fading

we were shaky; wanting to play it cool
there is nothing you could say to scare me
well there is one thing, you replied as we peered off the fourth story grated floor

just then, the fattest butterfly swished up from behind the baseboard
enamored by the sight; it provoked uninhibited exchanges
the carpet blows up and they all come flushing out

ribbons of red dust stream between us
so we latch on; walk them like a tightrope
no grip; it is effortless

i reach for the knobs; attempt to turn them down, but the flames already tower above us
every brass kettle and pot bubbling, immersed
bursting the cocoons open with our bare hands
you know i am scared of heights; but we dance on the catwalk anyway

Photo Cred

Icy Beauty

i’m drifting on a swooping patch of fluff in the cabin of a hot air balloon
fumes catching to the wind in their trail, catching to me; so i jump
gliding down to earth’s rusty terrain with my parasol in hand, and my debt in the other

Icy Beauty

i’m drifting on a swooping patch of fluff in the cabin of a hot air balloon
fumes catching to the wind in their trail, catching to me; so i jump
gliding down to earth’s rusty terrain with my parasol in hand, and my debt in the other

tip toeing as not to split the thin glaze beneath the arch of my foot
every creek and corner shattering my insides, scooping their seeds onto a plate for all to see; so i carefully slough them to the end of tomorrow’s table

my toes point as i plié through marshlands
concentrating on getting every move right
squatting and covering for the night in a deep bog
need to stop, but must keep going

trudging away in a buttery jam
everything around me sticking to my legs
the mud forms a permanent home in my soul
think I’m moving forward but we are just walking in circles

stomping on nature’s icy beauty
remiss to the bear trap’s; i know where they are now
unabashedly audacious in my tall winter boots

crumbly bite of wind on my face; i forge ahead in fearless fashion
my eyes eating anyone in my path; my hands absolving the past reckage
storm warnings ahead, but i firmly stomp on

the sky ruptures in two and her tears bathe the mountains
goosebumps form all over as the tantrum embraces my skin
they tell me to hold on, but i let go as i float down her brooks
an ethereal sense absorbs me as i dive into an unruffled cove
my parasol seems to appear as if it never left; it was waiting for me here all this time

Photo Credit