Theres something in the air
A murmur
Breaking from the sky
Electric shocks and torrential downpours
Splitting my silk tongue
Frayed ends tickle the throat
Tie up the lungs
Filling the belly with silken worms
Theres something in the air
A murmur
Breaking from the sky
Electric shocks and torrential downpours
Splitting my silk tongue
Frayed ends tickle the throat
Tie up the lungs
Filling the belly with silken worms
Your “Hi” is imperceptibly soft
A memory leaking from your innermost corners
A petal, already wilting
As if you know what’s coming
As if you truly believe
I won’t forever wander blindly into your arms
Guided only by the string that pulls me
Always directly with little lax
A tightrope for my heart to run away on
Photo from the Pexels free library – for the visually impaired, the photo shows an empty chair in the middle of a white room.
I’m wandering in circles, like I have somewhere to be, but no one is waiting for me.
I’m just lost in this room, bouncing from window to window.
Photo from the Pexels photo library
There’s something gnawing at the edge of my spirit
Small but persistent, hidden
Words once exchanged, hasty love
Bought sight unseen
Stored away in dark, cool places
It becomes secret doors
Scraped away in stone
And hidden ruminations
Based on smell alone
Ragtag Daily Prompt: Gnaw
There’s something to be said for catching your dreams
Wrangling them in as they claw away gravity
To find the sheen diminished
The meaning rusted
Oxidized by our expectations
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.
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.
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
I can’t think
So I peel away my skin
Long strips of thought
I can’t hope to hold onto
Though we hope things will get better soon we still have so many steps to go. I hope everyone is doing ok.