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(no subject)
day ten
5 minutes
six in the morning
it's too early for this shit
i've been awake for almost an hour already
crumpled crust in my dark circles
tucked back in the corner
a fog hangs thick on the air
my socks are wet from the blankets of grass covering my yard,
under sheets of dew (backwards)
fuck im not feeling this today...
10 minutes
first snowfall
i feel like we've been waiting for centuries to see this
flecks of white dancing in a downward spiral
flakes of snow splayed out on wet grass
it's too early to be dark
what used to be full of the sound of birds
is full of the sound of snowfall -
the empty quiet of bare trees
such a stark contract from the seasons of crickets chirping
funny how slow the process can be,
but it all boils down to that tangible moment
when you realize how quietly the earth moves underneath of you
watching clouds of breath dissipate
the only clear sound for miles is the sound of tires sloshing through salted slushy roads
it all feels so natural
that dichotomy of warm blood pumping under cold air
my stomache stoking the fire for a bit more warmth
i just want to hibernate for a while
90 seconds
easter sunday
the day of pink and baby blue
thick strands of plastic grass clinging to the carpet
what i love about this day is the smearing of chocolate around innocence
like the smearing of lambs blood around our front door
the rush of sugar and salvation
*****
day 11
5 minutes
late evening
crisp night air
cut down by camp fire
you are the place i go to make peace with my insides
i listen to the tune of crickets
entranced by the dance of fireflies in the trees
speckled giants of bark and leaves
pale blue skin in the light of moon
(i can't think this morning. it's like im not even here.)
10 minutes
loved one's funeral
there you lay, terry
stiff and yellow with formaldehyde
an expression on your face that i've never seen before
your hands feel like ice under loose skin
all the life faded from your hair
evil sings the sing song to his last day on the surface of planet earth
he waits patiently, hands folded on his navel,
for ashes to become ashes, and dust to become dust
smell of plastic flowers hangs thick
we didnt buy any food for the occasion so my stomache is growling
a funeral for a man who loved to eat, and we didn't bring any food
im sure he would have appreciated that
somewhere in this world the ashes of an urn stir uncomfortably
his sister cried her eyes out
when the pastor made up some stories for the occasion
i am jittery and empty,
a mixture of coffee and apathy
unable and unwilling to tolerate a room full of broken family members
they each sound like victims of some terribly tragedy that never fully happened
jjust another skeleton threatening to jump into a closet
90 seconds
i feel the victory welling up in my gut
somewhere buried under all of the baggage
is a sign that says "push."
the heaviness of air crushes down in big exhausted breaths
the earth spins a little under my feet carrying me
im really not here this morning...
*****
by this point i'm just skimming through it to get to the end of the first fourteen days. i'm certainly not feeling empowered as i was a few days back.
5 minutes
six in the morning
it's too early for this shit
i've been awake for almost an hour already
crumpled crust in my dark circles
tucked back in the corner
a fog hangs thick on the air
my socks are wet from the blankets of grass covering my yard,
under sheets of dew (backwards)
fuck im not feeling this today...
10 minutes
first snowfall
i feel like we've been waiting for centuries to see this
flecks of white dancing in a downward spiral
flakes of snow splayed out on wet grass
it's too early to be dark
what used to be full of the sound of birds
is full of the sound of snowfall -
the empty quiet of bare trees
such a stark contract from the seasons of crickets chirping
funny how slow the process can be,
but it all boils down to that tangible moment
when you realize how quietly the earth moves underneath of you
watching clouds of breath dissipate
the only clear sound for miles is the sound of tires sloshing through salted slushy roads
it all feels so natural
that dichotomy of warm blood pumping under cold air
my stomache stoking the fire for a bit more warmth
i just want to hibernate for a while
90 seconds
easter sunday
the day of pink and baby blue
thick strands of plastic grass clinging to the carpet
what i love about this day is the smearing of chocolate around innocence
like the smearing of lambs blood around our front door
the rush of sugar and salvation
*****
day 11
5 minutes
late evening
crisp night air
cut down by camp fire
you are the place i go to make peace with my insides
i listen to the tune of crickets
entranced by the dance of fireflies in the trees
speckled giants of bark and leaves
pale blue skin in the light of moon
(i can't think this morning. it's like im not even here.)
10 minutes
loved one's funeral
there you lay, terry
stiff and yellow with formaldehyde
an expression on your face that i've never seen before
your hands feel like ice under loose skin
all the life faded from your hair
evil sings the sing song to his last day on the surface of planet earth
he waits patiently, hands folded on his navel,
for ashes to become ashes, and dust to become dust
smell of plastic flowers hangs thick
we didnt buy any food for the occasion so my stomache is growling
a funeral for a man who loved to eat, and we didn't bring any food
im sure he would have appreciated that
somewhere in this world the ashes of an urn stir uncomfortably
his sister cried her eyes out
when the pastor made up some stories for the occasion
i am jittery and empty,
a mixture of coffee and apathy
unable and unwilling to tolerate a room full of broken family members
they each sound like victims of some terribly tragedy that never fully happened
jjust another skeleton threatening to jump into a closet
90 seconds
i feel the victory welling up in my gut
somewhere buried under all of the baggage
is a sign that says "push."
the heaviness of air crushes down in big exhausted breaths
the earth spins a little under my feet carrying me
im really not here this morning...
*****
by this point i'm just skimming through it to get to the end of the first fourteen days. i'm certainly not feeling empowered as i was a few days back.