All the Things I've Never Been

how am I going to deal with my unhappinesses? 

I'm going to smother them in joy.

so many hashtags

little signs we're fine for now -

a few little dopamine hits for the interim,

where we tell each other

we're all still out there, 

thanks for witnessing.

you all look beautiful,

I think.

between the Duolingo and baby bears in hammocks on repeat and @DougthePug,

something in me is changing.

I notice this while sitting on my throne -

you know the one I mean,

we've all been there.

that little (or rough) ritual of self-check-in,

a chance to breathe in the flurry of things,

click click click. check e-mail, check Facebook, scroll Instagram, thumbs hurt from texting, it's hard to pause sometimes. 

bathroom epiphanies.

all the things I've never been,

I wondered if I could be them.

the re-wiring of a brain

to perceive reality in a new way

takes some heavy breathing.

the release of the intangible inheritance of all that has formed me

and the ecstasy of becoming someone new

in an exercise of the human condition...

how to play with loneliness from different angles.

all the things I've never been,

all the things I'm becoming...

patient for decisions in time

a practiser of Arabic for the third time round and guitar for the second

friend before romance

hair dyed so bright to make you squint looking for my intelligence, so that I can question yours,

made of cuddle puddles - if you've never heard of them they are defined as melting pots of feels where we hold each other in all the complications instead of running away... (I highly recommend this one),

not giving a shit about what other people think because that is truly exhausting,

but still loving those silly other people, equal to the dear one I now love most,

     this little lady right here.

thanks for witnessing.

to all the things I am transforming. like a superhero. with magic hair.

there's a shapeshifter in the mirror,

bathroom epiphanies.

so for those who fear the pain of repeating it again,

and those who fear fear

and those who fear the night where we find ourselves

and those who fear the light outside the lines,

well actually I have nothing to say to you but basically

it doesn't have to be perfect,

and won't be anyways

so we might as well

try a little re-wire and

laugh while we're here.

that seemed like some serious statements, like a poem can't be funny.  

but remember when we laughed? it was it

is the most real I ever feel even though I often talk about feelings, which

is the default setting I can lean on for consistency but I'm trying different settings now.

like an upgrade on my 5SE while I sit and shit.

bathroom epiphanies. 

funny thing is

how am I dealing with my unhappiness? I'm smothering it in joy.  

and it's fucking working.

Power from my Toes

for truly I am better when I repress you.
we come and we go
you came and I went
I let you go
again and again
sometimes I can breathe you out from my socks full body and
mostly you're never there at all,
but tonight the melancholic sounds
have a way of bringing you to mind
and all I can do is swallow you down
lest you swallow me whole again.

yes okay I'm being dramatic with my words
but they sound so rich like this don't they?
and hey I'm not afraid to face the feels 
'cause they're the real deal
so digest them how you'd like,

for my love for you is better swallowed, 
because I've felt that lust is hella fun but a bit sticky at times
and I've seen at times that love is blind so now I see with my gut
the visceral message it's real 
that truly I am better when I repress you.
and when I avoid texting you.

no I'm not as tragic as this sounds,
this is where I write you out to cleanse you out.
others might relate and regardless it's my
repression released on screen.

no no I'm not as tragic as this seems
it's just that love is powerful
and I need to reserve some power 
for myself now.

that and I've learned to like the nice ones,
we laugh and keep it real.
love sits right in balance.

just like my gut
it's feeling pretty fucking fine these days.

*breathes out from toes*

I Saw Time in Her Laughter Ringing

those moments when you recognize time
when the memories are vivid in the same place many moons ago
where you see your age
in the smell of a place.

when your mind's eye walks the halls,
tastes the temperature of the rooms 
that taught you how to pray
by playing fruit salad with snotty kids
and buying a red squire strat 
just so he might fall in love with you
before you figure out self-confidence,
a thought to be forgiven,
but lordy what does it mean to love?

when the laughter returns from yesteryear, a dirty word you said made her laugh in that elevator you'd hide in during the service - harmonies and prayers for your soul muffled beyond the doors - sitting on it's floor long enough for the lights to forget you were there and shroud you in darkness - only your breathing sounds and stifled maturation reminding you of one another's company.
when you see time in the face of the same friend.
her laughter still ringing with all it has seen,
the sound hasn't changed but it's a little more rich.
I hear it in time.
a comfort in the ages.

when you see time.
and it makes you stop.
or wish you could.

words allowed

why are artists gifted with the art that they are?

why was i gifted with 
words 
words i never asked for
words that come in to and out of me 
with the same need to breathe?


why was i gifted with 
words
words written down or
words in the air seen
by no one but me?

perhaps because 
they are quiet
they are safe
which i need sometimes.

but.

now 
i need the unsafety of my 
words
aloud.

why?

perhaps because
my gift is making me grow.

it's not always how you want it but it's there, and it's good.