Quiet.
Quiet:quiet:quiet;
Creeping through my dreams.
Quiet go my screams
Quiet are the falls where my mind used to retreat.
The water has stopped running; no relief now ever coming;
Just the solitude of me and wary peace.
Someone tell me what to say when I no longer bleed words to breathe.
There is light deep in my chest
Where the bones and currents rest;
And the thunder-ache is stilled
down to a quiet whisper-thrill;
There is warmth flickering round
Over ribcage, stone and sound;
That I know what tomorrow holds.
Or rather Who has always held it close.
Sometimes in you is a shimmering sea;
An expanse of oil I cannot breach.
The charcoal-heart, once-lit, now doused;
Now covered in dirt and mud— snuffed out—
May need some time to be cleaned.
Know in my chest there is no rage; no snarling hands, no poisoned bait.
Just grief, and love, and patience.
Uncaged.
Breaking.
Burdens cracking, people hurting
Hurt so bad, you barely broken?
Weak and trembling, eyes re-welling.
Cry more tear and hurt more fear?
I close my ears but still can listen.
Big sad, small sad, their grief stolen.
Gasp and try to be less selfish.
Hurt-stealer, they not your feelings!
Melt me down; return the grieving
Finally we be agreeing.
Selfishness in my eyes.
Reflected, current, or entirely mine?
Wires that sink deep down my bones.
Scratching and sparking the itch I can’t hold.
I drink my own recipe of sorrow anew.
A brew wrought of bones turned fresh into glue
My refusal to command lingers still.
As I cry
and I cry
over the grief I distilled.
quiet for so long, you’ve
come; back to eat my bones.
the burning-in-my-chest just grows.
I want to know and be; be known;
I slither again to the stairs. Always at the bottom, ever in need of repair
A pair of shoes with worn-out soles.
The same. slick. burn. that. keeps. me. there.
has eaten away my wear; now my coat is scuffed with holes.
A leather skin that’s far too old
to be braving the sun like this.
Please let me sink back where the quiet still is
Indeed the currents keep
count of the dreams they reap;
Indeed the wideness yawns
into silence unbroken by song;
Indeed they watch your eyes
closed in observance of night.
I surrender, I surrender; though
we worry more in the dim of winter.
The wiring of my jaw still sticks
A current clicks — my heart is sick
The ache within threatens to win,
To cut my bonds with fired sand;
A mirror to set me free.
But I see in your eyes all that I need—
I am filling with the joy-light;
And the sleepy-love is here.
Light is trickling through the heart-cracks
Where there once bled only tears.
I stand now in earnest waiting
Hope like feathers in my chest;
I know the work will be completed
As I keep learning how to rest.
Tangled up, I cannot run
The lions do not blink.
The mouse is tall, its dreams run small
And we’ve naught but sorrow to drink.
Just Me, No More or Less 