Posted in stream of consciousness

Chew

The world has been chewing us up

And forgetting to spit us out

I’ve been doing a lot of these random small not-poetry things lately. They encompass the way I feel, like my head’s about to explode at any moment. I tell myself things will get better and I truly believe they will, but sitting in the discomfort of this entire year (or an entire existence) … it’s been an experience.

Posted in stream of consciousness

We Don’t Have To Stay

Slowly this aberration emerged, a plume of thick smoke sneaking between the cracks in the wall. We were no longer welcome here.

As if the stiff lipped fear ever meant we could stay. 

A collective thought grew among us, slow and warming, passed in the offering plate from one to another and nurtured with each passing hand.

Who are we to stay? 

In the darkness we gathered what little we could claim and disconnected ourselves from this place.

Incorporating a couple of the daily words. Abberation from FOWC and emerge from RDP.

Posted in stream of consciousness

Ripe

I had a dream

That I overflowed

And starlight lit my visions

But they were no longer mine

Instead they were plucked off the ground

Ripe fruit tempting those who passed

I’m trying again to write every day. I have to get myself back into the habit of sitting down and making time.

Posted in stream of consciousness

Welts

You don’t notice me

I can’t help but imagine

My name dripping from your mouth

A spoonful of soup

Slurped while still boiling

Forming welts on your lips

And your chin

Where I kissed you

Last time you remembered me

You don’t now

But I hope

Posted in stream of consciousness

Frequency

I try to bring myself up
Heighten the frequency at which I scream
But what comes around goes
You can’t hear me

I am … so many things and emotions and faces right now. I’m … unsettled, pushed out of any comfort zone I thought I had (as everyone has been throughout this year). I can’t believe it’s October 1st. Was I even born in January? I don’t know anymore.

Posted in stream of consciousness

My Cup Is Empty

I want to write, so badly, but my brain is stuck in update.

I feel like I’m constantly processing and unable to ever get far enough to spew my learnings onto paper.

Every day there’s a new piece of information, a new outrage, a new something that leaves me staring at the screen and grimacing.

Why are we like this?

Perhaps its the effects of months long abnormality or a year that has proven, like most stressful times, when one thing goes it all falls apart.

This year has been the car with freshly erupted flames on the side of the interstate. The family, barely freed from its grip, looks on in horror as they wonder how they got there.

Because of that, the constant imploding of every moment this year has had to offer, I feel my creative well has run dry and I’m in desperate need of replenishing it.

Anyone else? I know I can’t be alone.