...and the sky was so

blue

that it hurt

to look at it.

...as if

it was all

summed up here

above her

the realm that

enclosed her

protected her

imprisoned

her.

...that evoked

such powerful

emotion

she was overcome

threatened

by her smallness

by her lack

of time left

for all the empty spaces

filled with grief and despair

instead.

...and her heart

was so full

that it hurt

to feel it.

I want attachment

(I'm afraid of losing)

I want your heart

to be mine,

Your eyes trained

only on mine

(I'm afraid of losing)

I want to be

admired,

be inspired

(I'm afraid of losing)

I want to walk away,

laugh as I discard

everyone and everything

who loves me

(I'm afraid of losing).

I was not on the

Earth there

I floated above it

No one expected me

to care

that's why I loved it

If I was walking and talking

and breathing

It was an accomplishment

No one would fault me

that I wasn't more

confident

The tragedy was all

of ours

everyone knew it

The girl at the bus stop

started speaking sense

When I yelled back at her

Then together we

scared the world

with how crazy we were

But in that instant

we loved it

cuz we could be lost together

We'd lost so much

The pain was stronger than

anything could touch

Back here, I'm expected

to be more I can

The girls judge me with a sneer

and I'm no one's hero

They don't understand me

or my music

or my words

No one yells on

the street corner

Wears their pain

with no shame

is touched by my words

or even wants to hear them

there's no one named

Rocket, or I.P. or Sugar bear

I still can't believe how

they don't want to see

and keep their scars

hidden away

locked up forever

Here, I am nothing.

And soon, I will feel

Nothing.

Rescued from where

I didn't need saving

Shoved back into this world

of the breathing dead again.

Share the broken bits of yourself;

Allow the World to sift through

the damage

and find pieces that can be cobbled together into what another

can find recognizable,

And call it Human.

August 26, 2023

I wake up with the beat of the last song (before the phone shut off last night) as the daily dose of the greeting in my head, and Anne Lammott is in there as well, her words that I'm still digesting are infiltrating through my system.

I sit outside, in my usual space, trying to keep the worry thoughts from surfacing, or diving, into the atmosphere of my being.

I attempt to conjure up the feeling of freedom.

My cat gazes, staltwart, from the kitchen window ledge above. I think that it's way to early for my back to be aching already, and that I need to write to Anne Lammott.

God, it's hot as fuck already.

R

This morning, I wake up to hear that Tik Tok is yet again, informing us that we are nearing the End of Days. Chaos is abundant and tomorrow it may be at your doorstep.

Hate's last breath has extended its warranty on Life, and will carry on forever in a quest for an alternate truth in an attempt to avoid the death that the wicked are so terrified of, because they know their power and money are cheap party tricks that only the earthlings are ignorant and docile enough to succumb to.

Tik Tok should be dubbed Tik Talk because it never shuts up, and relies on humans and their backward curiosity.

Get ready, because the bodies are piling up and the undertaker's dream is shaking him awake to a nightmare.

I see this girl-woman

in front of me,

and I ask her

"Who are you?"

She replies

"Who do you want me to

be?"

I see this girl-woman

unharmonized

and anxious.

Her Soul is so restless,

the pacing has left

tread marks on her heart.

I ask her,

"Where, girl-woman,

do you wish to go?"

She replies,

so wearily,

"You know, you have always

known, I want to go to that

place I don't know."

I cry for this girl-woman

in front of me.

Her time is almost up,

Why does she not make a

move?

"My Soul is tired" says she.

"My hope is losing stride;

I can't make this happen,

this dream I must awaken

to."

"Push"

she says,

reflecting back at me.

"Push me, so I fall,

or death will come for me,

and I will never be set free."

So I asked my shadow self,

"Come out and show

yourself,

Show yourself"

And eventually,

my shadow

arrived,

late, but somehow

just on time.

Fashionably dressed,

(style is very important

in matters

of the Soul

don't you know)

Says it took forever

to make sense

of my mess.

I was pleased,

complication was a pride

of mine.

Finally, now

this has come to pass,

the reading of

the you who is true,

at last.

"I'm not ready"

I stammered,

searching for

a detour, a bypass.

"Death will come so soon",

my shadow intoned,

formidable,

with class.

"Ahh, but death is unafraid

to meet you"

I finessed.

"The light of your shadow

will find its destined home

at last".