The weight of it all skyscrapers that have burnt out their structures and mistaken my arched stiff neck as something steady to lean on, but I am not steady, I am the vibration of a string minutes after it's been struck, no sound, no purpose, but moving still as if I always must he is an exhale the wind …
Rise
When the mud feels like mud water, sweeping everything you thought you knew, you were, and the moment between what was and what will become is uncertain, too long and unforgiving. Will you rise the other side as a survivor — a warrior — a broken memory of the beginning. Will you rise at all? Is there another side? An ending.
Twenty-two
Half bursting,half nothing, some mornings I’m somethingand others I’m not.How do I live all at oncebut feel as if I’m not moving;I’m striving, dancing, crying, beatingand this is not enough.I can’t be all of it without dulling myself down–I’m white dust scattered into mudand soon enough they’ll seeI’m no more than this.I don’t know how to be when …
Longing for before
the smile that rounded her face and crinkled her eyes, she hated being photographed laughingas the lines under her chin showed,but now these digitised pasts are all that she has to remember the feeling of it. not that it’s possible to miss yourself, and if it were what would it feel like? nostalgic, regret, heartache, fraying? not thatit’s plausible, or understandable, to want …
The changes you bring
He never used to raise his voice, but now that you’re around he shoutswould have thought after all our battles at sea with you, that I’d come to know it wasn’t me he was angry with, but you.But I don’t. I stand there, fingers dripping excess anxiety to the floorboardswith his voice echoing off the walls …
the OCD life 