I am stunned by your obsession,
it makes me feel plain and completely uninteresting,
a mirror without reflection,
a watch with no hands
a mountain with no view
a match that refused to light up
an ocean dark, but without depth.
Long walks on the beach
temperance
chances to find me
past who I think I should be.
I am somewhere in the distant past
on the brink of the future
if I stand still I can hear me breathing…
just now.
I’ve adjusted?
It’s not as if I would not cower if challenged.
I seem tranquil?
That’s what my drawings think
when signatures are engraved.
Worries feel disposable?
No I am afraid… not ever.
I have met my lace rimmed jar
creatures inside
tokens of me
limping
seeking out a more refined timeline.
They pause
stubborn little soldiers they are.
I breathe inside the moment
yet within my circle
treasures are unsaid
and oft times undone.
Viewed and dismissed
as an empty
well scheduled atonement
fleeing and forever blind.
I must take a second look
I am that discerning eye
eyes not blind forever
only hearts find that much emptiness.
Sometimes it’s a good thing
pretending to lose ones way.
Is that pretend?
I confess to be laughing out loud.
There
I’ve said it
stretched my blanket out across the table
I am completely uncovered.
Mistress of dance
I have known your late hours
felt jealous.
I lied
when to say I have not.
I nearly missed that preoccupied motion
steps I simple misplaced.
Oh my god
this screaming monster
I have created in these words.
It’s all so timely
reminding me
I recognize the passion
it is mine own.
Monsters in the closet
laughing
sometimes frightening.
More blood on my pillow
ripping into my ears
let it rest.
I will get back to my canvas
or clay meeting my fingers
try to predict the outcome
fold in sacred meanings blasting with color.
Your obsession has brought me to this place
I’d like to say that it is golden
yes
it is of course.
I know my own monsters
and they are friends of mine.