beyond here

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embroidered feathers for toes
she soars today
tomorrow is scary and yesterday is too much weight
to keep light enough to fly
they say
if gold were the color of stars
search for gold in souls-
sift through the deepest sand
remember to make it all un-perfect
dreams and consistency
water and waves
if only if she could if she did she didn’t
she should she shouldn’t
stop the dissipating, decentralized examination of life
If she spoke louder, if she didn’t speak at all
again they repeat a hymn..
a slogan, a song on continuous flow
she and they-told to follow the leader
told to be or not, not to pretend but to act
to surrender or to flee
she realizes life in the moments
when her disbelief becomes her guide

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shadows

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even as the evening drapes over our eyes
everything we carry falls to the floor around our beds
our sanity stops getting lost and just exists
and this society fades to black
the sky is a canvas to heal
the smoke filled air-our attonement
the noise-our safety
our souls reflected by the silver in the moon

we can stay here until the evening breaks
soft sunlight warms the tips of our toes
maybe it still doesn’t make sense
maybe it doesn’t have to
but we can let go of the shadows-
they are too heavy to lift

without a word


I break a sheet off
the sharpness numbs my fingertips
the fragility pulls the air from my lungs.
I can’t breathe,
believe
the words in like oxygen float in front of my gaze.
Dancing-twisted
un-rythmatic
pattern-free
persistence.
I am intrigued by my ability,
the effortless way I create delusion.
I am comforted by becoming the girl in my memories.
some not true
some not me
some not you
I am still staring at this single sheet
the crisp and clean white piece of perfect.
I fight for the right words to compliment its existence.
I beg for courage
to begin
to pick up the pen.
Time ticks-the millions of clocks-
the beat of my heart louder each second.
I see a single match-
swift and routine
breaks the silence of this night.
The clattering of my mind,
becomes light.
A single flicker of burning fuel
scatters life back to my hollow eyes.
All the things I wanted to say
but never said,
the things I wanted to do
but never did,
on fire in front of my face.

neon lights and stars


so, so I see
under neon lights
and stars
ignite  my freedom
the curtain closed
anticipate it open
I stare, stare
so long
I breathe it in
hoping to find me
every day
as sure, sure I say
forgotten
forgiven
let go
off my shoulder tops
breathe out of my soul
so alive, alive
under a new sky
revived eyes
unexplored steps,
my feet keep step,
stepping
I look for the next
place
I am
designed to be

forest dance


and she danced
circling through
thoughts in her head
quick as movement
they faded into her twirl

to a secret place
she escaped
moving with the magic
dancing through
the delightment
of moss and trees

the moments of confusion
seem less heavy-
she floated
through the air
with ease-
drifting into her own reality

patterns


I feel the strength-
it starts to drip through my bones
like sweet honey…
I taste it on the tip of my tongue.

The world doesn’t see
like I do. Doesn’t hear
what I hear. Doesn’t
fall in love with
what has always been there.
My existence is in another place-
so I break free.

I take these steps these days
like they are part of a pattern-
already designed-determined-delicate.
I find faith in all that I love,
where I find my truth.
Where I can breathe.
My voice breaks free.

I find magic in what I believe.
You can see it in my eyes-
when I suddenly realize
that I’ve joined everyone else’s..
unanimous unified utopia of uselessness.
My eyes break free.

I find worth in life
that isn’t planned, isn’t preoccupied, isn’t pressured, isn’t pure, isn’t pretend, isn’t probability, isn’t precise, isn’t always precious, isn’t poor, isn’t prescribed, isn’t persuasive, isn’t always understood.
The pattern of my heart breaks free.

mis-matched


free-
style-mismatched clothes
mismatched feet
mismatched nose
she dances through discussions
a drifter in the night
another face
another delirious sight
free-
mind-her own
values, beliefs,
truth be known
changes drip through her veins
like syrup from trees
her arms stretch wide
pure beauty-the land of the
free-
ly-she goes
different paths
different people
different tones
her hair-tangled in the wind
her hands-wrinkled and strong
she skips through these moments
exactly where she belongs

pedaling

blue cotton dress
blowing off my sticky knees
I pedal as fast as I can
to clear my mind of clutter-
no certain direction
no need to be anywhere
just gliding to the sounds of silence
my hair tangling in gusts of wind
my tires creating rhythm
the hot pavement-my map
house lights and stars
light my way-light my eyes
no clocks to block my view
the moon tells me to keep going
safely shining through this dark night
calming the patterns of thoughts
that tempt me to lose my focus
I’m smiling at letting it go
this is my night song-
my way to come down-
back to my house I fly
through the thick air
ready to fall into sleep
I’m breathing deep again
just a girl free from the
meaningless monotony
let me tell you about
the therapy
an old-beat-up
over-used
rusty red
bicycle
can bring

existing


silent stories
encrypt their pages in my mind
a thousand new words
I wrote today
without anything to say
a new chapter in my laughter
a new verse in my song

existing to enjoy
these are my true sacred days
yesterday gone tomorrow may not come
I am here in these minutes
wrapped in people who exist
in voices that I actually hear
fully immersed in the details of what I see
I react without time to act
I am just me

my soul is filled with
the seconds of my time
I am alive freely by being here

stuffy


it’s stuffy in my room
the air-heavy like fog
floating in my mouth
filling my mind with water
and my thoughts are throwing

      waves
      against the side of
      my brain

the heat makes the drawers stick and
creak as they
rattle…open…
and the old memories smell
like musty letters,
rusty nails
I am drowning in the sea of me
the tide is rising
and the air starts to taste like salt
a million emotions
clouded with a million degrees

I watch the fan-round-and-round-and-round-again

my neck is sticky
I lie here.exposed.