You were sitting in the tall grass thinking about God.
Gazing up, staring into the sun
wondering why all these things were made for you.
You looked away and saw spots.
Didn’t cry, but felt a raindrop.
It made your skin melt.
You peered up as the breeze blew
and for miles and miles you could see the grasses,
coaxed from their stillness against the blue sky,
swaying like they were born to do this.
Too heavy to be lifted, your eyes began to close
to dream of a time when you never have to go home.
So you lay down
and keep quiet,
and stay hidden in the tall grass.
Mary Poppins is goddamn everything.
My head feels like a brick after a long day of leisure
proving you can have too much of a good thing.
I suppose you’re asking yourself some questions.
You’re not the only one.
I know I’ve been thinking a lot about masks
and whether or not we really have control over our emotions;
It affects the breath in the strangest way.
I’m not even close to taming it.
And can I tell you a secret?
I don’t know what I’m doing.
There’s days I’m drunk enough to shake it off;
there’s days it scares the hell out of me.
But what if I never find a happy medium?
I’ll be quiet now.
I’m a dodecagon times infinity.
I’m everywhere so much that maybe it doesn’t much matter at all.
Every day is “to be continued…”
I have a sister in me. A twin.
I never saw her before today.
She looks just like me. Spitting image.
But she’s wiser, less impulsive.
Kind smile, no judgement.
She hugs me and says, “It’s all going to be okay,
don’t get hung up on the past, it doesn’t matter anymore, really”.
No words leave her mouth, but I can translate.
I can read her mind because we’re the same.
Sometimes it just takes some deep thought and concentration
to break through our own mental, metal barriers
unknowingly created by ourselves
to protect and survive.
Although sometimes shields are double-edged swords in disguise.
If you just let it happen, it’s not that hard to
pull it out of the stone.
A poem from this summer I found in a notebook just now.
that it wouldn’t feel
I think too big to fit in the box.
You know, I was thinking just now
Why do we do it?
Why feel compelled to utter forth
a loud guffaw?
It got me to thinking –
Perhaps we cry
in attempts to heal the wound,
as water brings new life.
And gasp at the air
so that the pain in our lungs validate
we are still here – suffering.
And when we laugh
we are shaking off the snake skin,
constricting us for too long.
Or breaking the iceberg that exists
in us, in others,
so that we may breathe
a little easier.