There’s a gun in my mind that
I’m only just starting to learn how to unload.
coiled and tense, hand on the trigger
since age 12.
Something been screaming at me
from the audience longer than memory
HOLD ON OR DIE
a whispering from backstage
mask off so I can see your eyes
brutally exposed you ugly beautiful
in your imperfections, I want
to rip off your armor so
your skin can
taste the sun
there is no damage that can be
done to you without resurrection
you fall so you can fly
this universe the bird mother that
keeps shoving you from
the nest until you
remember what your wings are for.
Hit full trance state so many times at Dutch Zouk these past couple weeks. I had to wake up to reality at the end of the night every time.
brain’s footprints over
vertebrae, ribs, scapula
salt dissolved in water
dream dissolved in sleep
floating above a bowl
of star soup
outstretched limbs to
(could hold you forever
until this world ends and the next begins)
Looking around myself, like damn, NONE of you could handle the full force of my affection.
Poem to follow but I’m on my phone and can’t format well.
insist the water is not for me
the salt will catch under eyelids
the sand will scrape me
of course one is safe
if one stays in bed
Lovecage is an oxymoron.
I dreamed I found a teacher or
who would walk the path with me
that no one else would.
someone who would walk me
past the cage, up the
and end this cycle.
How are we going to heal our trauma in such a restrictive society? We need to scream and throw paint at the walls.
Twice I’ve let go like that with soberbrain (not crazy or under any influence) and it was with hippies both times.