Category Archives: poetry in motion?

write.

i could write
about you,
but it wouldn’t
be true.

all i have
is moments of clarity,
moments of pure bliss.
cliche upon cliche.

i don’t remember
a time,
when this part
of my heart
felt so damn calm.

how to write
about you,
when there’s no horror
or pain.
no worry or fear.

how to write
about you,
when you offer
nothing but reassurance
and peace.

how to write
about you,
when i’m occupied
by the thought of you
in every moment.

i wake up
smiling.

Advertisements

cut time.

time
relentlessly
cuts me:
stop.
back.
end.

play it
again
or make it
stop.

do it
over
or turn
it back.

keep me up;
up
or make it
end.

i want
for one thing
only:
stop time
for us,
take us back,
or make it
end.


numb.

i do not
miss
the endless
panic and fear.

i do not
miss
the endless
dread and tremors.

i do not
miss
the endless
tears and adrenaline overdose.

alas, the
replacement
is a dull numbness
and endless insomnia.

i do not
sleep
on holidays;
i do not
sleep
at all.

i do not
miss
the endless
gasps for breath.

but i do
miss
sleep.


c i t y.

something about this
city,
has her dreaming
of all the faces:

the falcon.
the lexus.
the cordoba.
the executive.
the antique.

what awaits tonight?

the escape?
the forest?
the mini?

this city.


muse[um].

i lined up
for a new exhibit;
it was like
the other one,
but different.

and you
weren’t
there.

i walked the streets;
and wondered
which restaurants
reminded you
of my face.

and you
weren’t
there.

the colours
held your eyes;
i felt you
watching;
i felt you missing.

and you
weren’t
there.

i will return
and return:
to my second home city.
i’d just always
imagined you joining me.

and you
weren’t
there.


mirror.

in the rearview;
i let go
of the belief.

i thought there
might be someone,
i hadn’t met yet.

i still thought;
that feeling
awaited me.

someone – available –
who somehow found
my flaws stunning.

this is the year
of feeling
my use-by date.


netflix.

i watched it
again,
so i could
remember
the pain.

i lived in
that world
for so long.
i thought i’d
forgotten.

scrape the surface
and you will
find it.

not a longing
to remember,
but a longing
not to forget.


stagger.

no knife
is sharp enough;
no blade
splits the flesh
with surgeon-like
precion.

puzzles float
through my brain:
shapes and colours
and figures and trees.
to test and trick
and bore you.

the numb monotony
wills me towards you
and i know
my desperation
isn’t fair;
i bore you.

sleep or sprint
are my only functions.
can you still
call it functional
when you stagger through life
at only two speeds?

i search for pain,
even when my eyelids ache
and my skull is shattered
and my stomach is twisted;
i seek it: i am
a willing participant in my own addiction.

would it be release?
or another futile effort?
do i really care,
now i know
i don’t belong
in this world.


paralysis.

it is a deep panicked paralysis
i can not move
yet staying still is torture.

how the moment
is yearned for,
but to be finally enveloped
fills me with disgust.

self-loathing is a cliche,
self-hatred is a given,
pour yourself into a glass
of milk and watch
the peasants drink.


innate.

i feel it pulling
[me] in;
is that how it is
for [you]?

not even
begging, but
knowing i will
surrender.

follow it,
feel it,
obsess and
crave the purge.

i can almost
feel the pain
before i embrace it;
almost etched
into my skin
before i collapse
into the sharp
embrace.

i envy
her willpower
and control.
i envy his
distortion.
i envy the complete
surrender
to a distinction
of control.

this innate;
this blood
that tears through me;
this tremor and
insatiable
imagination.