the draft in my mind
I am sure you were here
on this screen, and in time
perpetual
Steve weaving his usual and unique magic.
Thought bubbles must be punctured gently,
deflated with a fine molecular needle.
-/-
She lets me do the shopping at the markets,
the hens are in my charge, I sweep the floors,
but I’m a prisoner in her house.
On the crooked kitchen shelving, potions bright,
alluring clues, magic herbs and condiments.
To prepare Bahian fish, she says.
Her eyes are jungle camouflage, her tidal laughter
breaks in waves when nothing is amusing,
mysteries are woven in her hair.
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So while I was pondering what exercise I could do to work off the crazy amount of food I have eaten today (I blame the weather. It suddenly turned cold like autumn, after unseasonably warm weather, like autumn. But now it’s cold, like autumn), I found this.
This manicured violence
that entertains our peace
weeping mystification
I long for relief
there’s no relief…
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“You know, in all honesty, I am getting tired of these games. It actually breaks my “heart” to see what you are doing. And in the end, I am not helping at all…”
he had heard it all before.
all those longing rhymes. with door
revolving the cool.
“Please tell me you know that feeling. Everyone else is in on a secret and I must have left the room in the telling. Don’t you feel that way sometimes?”
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It was completely true. She could not believe it. She twisted the foregone conclusion the way she had been shown, and the colour appeared. Bleeding from under her fingernails.
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It was going to be a normal day. If it was the last thing they ever did. A normal day of picnicking in the sun, like normal families. On a sunny spring day. With a packed basket. And a blanket. And outside games. And other normal things that nobody they knew ever did. Because, well, they did time travel to get there.
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“What was that word again? The one that was on his face?”
I don’t know. I DON’T KNOW.
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How would they find it? She couldn’t remember the rules and every step she ran, she jumped two steps back in clarity. She hated that he got to the formula before she had, and now she was paying for it.
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He was right.
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I never noticed that before, that ceiling, she thought to herself. All this time, she hadn’t noticed the fabric of her security. But she had never floated like this before. The current had always looked uncomfortable.
For my dear friends who struggle with this, (and I have too) and for the people who love you, important words so beautifully and honestly expressed.
I don’t want to talk.
I need rest.
I need silence.
The thoughts in my mind are overwhelming. They won’t stop. My life is a constant battle of outside voices competing with internal thoughts. It’s too much.
I don’t know how, but I need rest.
I’m lonely, but I can’t silence the storm of thoughts in my mind when another voice is in my ear; so I shut everyone out and feel relieved when they finally walk away.
I don’t mean to hurt feelings, but I need silence.
I don’t want anyone around because the tension that radiates from their discomfort with silence is even worse than being forced to talk.
I know they mean well, but I need rest.
I don’t need to lay down in the sense that it’s been a long day. I need to disappear for a while in the sense that it could be fatal…
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“I thought it only fair to warn you, but the baby will come at dark. And you know how they like to prey.”
This looks lazy. Although, remember, looks can be deceiving. Well, except in this case. I am being lazy.
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I was so sure it was spelt with an “i”
and the more I look at it,
the more I want it to be.
