my thighs and stomach are
soft and my belly is full of
cheese and wine and fruit.
my skin is cool and pale but full and my hands
give me nostalgia for when they were small and padded with childhood’s natural safeguard.
now they are rough and leaner and a big vein protrudes from the middle of the back of each.
i often don’t recognize my body.
i look down at my forearm or feet or
feel my shoulder or hip and i don’t know who i am.
but right now, it’s okay. i am content,
i feel melancholy on the opposing edge.
soft and passionless happiness.
love, peace, softness.
when i was embedded in the darkness, i was consumed by repeatedly chewing people up
and spitting on them.
a whole tub of the stuff.
the muck and gunk of depression, jealousy, bitterness, and confusion, spat with the force of the insurmountable pressure i felt, both intrinsically and extrinsically.
it’s stunning to reflect on.
my core being is so completely about finding the light, and to think that there was a time where i was too heavy to move makes me weep for my dead selves.
i don’t have a clue about my future, but i’m okay with it. i have completely shifted, and (in a rare exclusion of modesty), it was my doing, not the world’s.
the sun’s rays did not seek me out. they did not spin to encapsulate me.
i hacked at my roots and moved myself.
i took precious, precarious care of myself, dropping my dead branches and nurturing my buds.
i still have harsh winters, but never again will i go back.
my roots gently press into place. i’m staying, earth bound.
for the moment.
love is IT
beauty is light
found purpose is
dreams are part of IT
the whole is purity
rest in your war, wake in your peace.
don’t soak in sludge. clean.
live to share
not a machine, but powerless if not clicked in place
solve your strife.
love your stains
take care and be well
want. to die
they don’t care
there is not enough care in here,
the air dehydrates
i wish we found our care again.
ii am very scared.
i will land in a pit, the put where they Rot.