strange poem like thing…. the entry is trying to alchemise somethings i’d like to mourn, or how it feels to mourn, to purge, to feel the pressure of deeply painful memories welling up inside, how the moon rises them out of my stomach and how i want to run to a lower tide
What's terrible is to pretend that second-rate is first-rate. To pretend that you don't need love when you do; or you like your work when you know quite well you're capable of better. -doris lessing (golden notebook)
i haven’t touched a brush
like fr in a while
and it’s taking a toll on me
am i a dandelion
picked to be fed
to the hare?
tortoise walks
a swarm of micro ants
around my body
and i’m going
to ruin everything,
aren’t i?
baby let me run
let me run
into the sunshine
that twinkles
on the moonlit channel
passing dark figures
who are smiling
and i can’t see
for a while
passing them really fast,
a red light flashes
in my face
and they get smaller
and smaller
until they fade away
now i’m sitting here
near to u more
now than ever
and my palm reader
says i should be good
at physical comedy
and my therapist
missed our last session
but i
should be
fine
accepting my place accepting my place
thats what the possum told me to say
coercing me from the inside of my mouth
like the god of abraham isaac and jacob
then they all played dead
in a silly way
then all of my
cotton fell out
i told priestess
that’s the where the pains is
it feels
like i’m creating
more
confusion
but for me its clear
and its hard to conform to stay alive
and remember how beautiful i am
and it’s hard to face others about that too,
i was called many things,
spitting words
like daggers on me
calloused and shaking
and it’s a shame
to piss on flowers
that’s why the hurricane hit so hard that year
im sure
im on a shape
i mean im on a ship
and that ship is
good enough for me
as my friends remind me
my crew my crew
that’s what i have to see when i close my eyes
and sometimes
i like to scream
into an abyss
that i create
