Sunday, 10 October 2021

Raw

My skin has been grinded out
scraped leaving my nerves exposed.
Instinct, I recoil from touch
and shy from the light and sound.

My head is heavy,
as neurons drown in a dark poll;
And my neck struggles,
to keep my head over water;
As my shoulders hunch,
with unremovable burden;
Along my pale face,
two training weights drag at my cheeks;
Low lids dig my eyes,
within the shade of dark circles.

You ask me if I am ok?
I am fine thank you.

I just wish I wouldn't, 
burst at every setback,
acid lava within shouts.

I just hate who I've become,
I look worst than my grandmother
behave worst than my mother. 

I just wish there was more to me
than the feeder, cleaner, enforcer
the silent listener, lover.

I just hate the world,
not you, not them,
just me in it and thereof.

Saturday, 9 October 2021

Mommy will be right back


Her hand grasped firmly the wobbling handrail,
a step further, another crack of wood.
The candle she held but contoured her face,
as she moved the shadows danced ever still.

A light burst through the basement's entrails
drawing a table with perturbing tools,
broken chairs and gimmicks conquered by webs,
only to drawn back to the depths of black.

Followed the rattling of the enraged skies,
heavy bodies of water crash in fight,
shaking her spine the way down to her thighs,
the candle nearly dropped to start a fire.

A foot forward, her free hand ahead
to slowly test for free space between shades.
Her pinky smashes a hefty card box
and the drunken candle vomits hot wax

Then sharp profanity words are exhaled
and she resumes her stroll through the dark woods
shades delineate in her somber mind
while screams of frightened kids reach from above.

Her fingers touch the smooth plate of plastic,
open carefully (it's a brittle lid)
to find a switch in a bow position.
''Found it!'' - She shouts as she pulls it upwards.

Buzzing lights eat the forest from the mess
and chants of joy waterfall down the walls.
She blew out the candle, ran up the stairs
to her spot amid the couch and a blanket.

"Let's watch something filled with suspense! Popcorn?"
Cheers in uproar greeted her short comment.

Monday, 7 June 2021

the moon shines for the sea and we bathe in them

As steam blurs the bright twilight colors
The moon grabs a cloud to wrap around
checks its reflection biting her lip
The sea frames her light transcending it.

Twinkles her eye and smiles clarity
He whispers back: "You are beautiful"
She blushes, she trusts he believes so
So she ascends to the stary stage.

She will not have the need to outshine,
Nor to hide the craters in her face
To illuminate him profoundly.

It's not that she devotes her life to him
But his overflowing heat burns her
Thus covered to expose herself as art.