swimming hard against the current in choppy white surf running barefoot in cold wet sand legs straining aching but afraid to stop to breathe what
Black Roses and Moonlight
She brings black roses and moonlight fireflies like stars in her sky bare feet caress the dewy ground night blooming jasmine reaching up to brush
Sweet Tart
unspoken words strung like mismatched pearls dangled delicately from the hinge of my jaw tasted lemon tart to my tentative tongue our future hung suspended
Paler Shade of Winter
i long to paint but this unceasing palette of dirty whites of tired grays that lurks outside every window sucks the rich marrow from my
Blanketed
I have learned to wear solitude quietly an old quilt draped over sharp shoulder blades engulfed in threadbare patches of memory that I worry with lonely fingertips
Shoulds
i should brand myself a failure self-flagellate for failing to meet expectations of those who wear white coats shiny stethoscopes draped casually around necks I
Struck Mute
i am a woman built of words it is not natural comfortable intuitive for me to tie my tongue tightly to choose silence to be
Demonized
i do not speak with forked tongue yet you damn me a demon paint my hands blood red cut me black diamond hard innocent misunderstanding?
Byte
hyper- focus is an art i slip into words into screen until i am nothing. . . nothing but blinking cursor nothing but task decoded
