Exile


unfamiliar Deja vu 

reverbs like a wraith boomerang

surfacing from untapped depths 

i haven’t been here before

this time 

this place

this person

so why does recognition lurk

hesitantly by blurred borders?

why do i feel 

i have made this choice 

before? 

exiled within my own skin 

i exist like an 

unstrung Rumpelstiltskin

cursed with memory loss

certain there is something

i must recognize

to reclaim my essence

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Raw

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i am not who you see

the person bending out of your pupils

unfolds with grace and majesty

but i,

i lie here flushed and soulbared

draped in disillusionment

my clunky sobs stampede through

too thick air

lips dance in an unfamiliar grin

that feels wrong

even as i laugh at your awful jokes

right now,

i want to be anyone else

but you look unflinching at

some beautiful, powerful me

and i’m caught

like a semi-reluctant butterfly

trapped in your gaze

waiting for you to see

i’m actually a moth

Tangled

what is the beauty

of bittersweet

my emotions used to be

unplugged

no matter how many switches

i flipped

demons blinded me

but now i can feel

a million million colors

it makes me proud, fierce

like a shadow stricken elephant

who remembers a time without

yet still, right now

the edges of my emotions run ragged

blurry watercolor fault lines

sun swaying and thorn cloudy

the currency of my feelings

cannot spend

and i’m left bare, confused

Brink

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dauntless, i

perch

upon an inescapable edge

rock bottom lies far below

terrified of what it might mean, i always avoided

the promise of its bared predator teeth,

vein-yellowed skeletons smiling

with the unvarnished arrogance of inevitability

distracted, i catch a

peripheral glimpse of the pearl swirled skirts of

beckoning eddies + waves of wind

gleefully coaxing the horizon a bit further to freedom

torn, i

tumultuous sinner + agony angel

achingly worthy + w(e)ary of redemption

afraid, i

breath caught inside an in-between moment

sink or swim, bend or break

anchor or feather

unsure, i

what the decision is/for, i do not know

still, i find myself

dangling

over jagged honed maw, under stretched out sky

ready, i

do i have hope left enough to fly

or can i finally trust myself enough to fall,

to break

without shattering?

Tattered

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it’s a rare, strange thing

to find solace in absolute misfortune.

to knit a cozy tattered blanket

from the dire-dyed weave of

trials + tribulations

+ continuously dance

dangerously close to the

fiendishly yellow blazing fire

that appears to be burning down

all carefully constructed options

+ turning hope into

just another carrot

on the endless

stick and treadmill of life.

there’s something almost beautiful

in this surrender

to the universe.

it’s what makes us mortal

what makes us

love so deeply

want so badly

climb so recklessly

peak so sublimely

plummet so devastatingly

break so hole heartfully.

it’s what makes us all

secretly believe in

superheroes,

+ even more secretly,

believe that we are one

just waiting for

a moment of discovery

or an unknown trigger

yielding transformation.

so i’ll take my ashes,

my ratty, badluck blanket,

flip my demons the bird,

+ add it all to my

world warrior shield

made from kryptonite

until flaws marry strengths

and i stand complete

Sure

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Surety

it used to be a close-held lover,

breath twinned to mine,

whispering words of survival.

now it’s a barely recognizable ex,

framing all of my decisions with

hollow hooded question marks

whose sinuous curves bely

their sinister intentions

to blacken diamonds with doubts

until they’re back to coals again.

the square-jawed assurances

of my brave inner soldiers

are broken.

now, they limp aimlessly around

raw rebel refuges

hidden behind an uncommitted rib

soon, my mirror will show nothing but

sighs, shadows +

double-edged swords

sprung from fear-forged

iron maiden kamikaze armor.

i never liked labels or definition,

but now that they’re deprived of me

i find myself

buried in cliches

and somehow lacking

Less

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today is not

a day of mores

those times come too

meadows amongst the murk

broad shouldered gateposts framing

the soft yellow promise of

a happy ending

but theres also the tunnel

where the light’s not always visible

or even present

the potential of my best self

nowhere within reach

i’m stuck with a

moody waif unable to stand still

pupils fluttering about without relief

hands twitching with

semi abandoned thoughts

unable to settle on a reflection

or catch hope,

instead sifting and discarding identities

like an uneasy hand of poker

Mired

How do you escape

when you’re trapped inside the same mistake?

How do you break away

from the spike twisted tangles of unimaginable reality?

 

How do you choose,

between what you want & what you must lose,

when you’re no longer who is “me,”

but not yet sure of who you can still be.

 

In the karmic lost & found,

I am neither.

And while fears and doubts abound

I drift idly by, locked in vulnerability

 

Unwilling to give up,

Unable to start fresh.

Find me a new pulse,

a new reason to breathe.

Question

Is it enough to know

you’re strong

when you don’t

feel it?

Can’t feel it?

 

which is mightier,

the Head

or

the Heart?

 

How can I,

supposedly so strong,

be erupting with nothing but

questions?

 

Have I really accepted my fate

my label, my disease, my diagnosis

for something with no discernable

cause, cure, or treatment

 

or am I still in denial?

 

And if I don’t know,

if I’m stuck inside

this massive question mark,

then how can I ever

get better?

Crash

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I envy Chicken Little.

With her, the entire sky is falling.

With me, it’s just my little corner.

The rest of humanity crashes on, unassuming.

Demands, wishes, hopes, pleas

debts, bargains, claims, needs

always circling, fighting to be first in line

for my attention, my love and myself.

I keep giving pieces away,

Willingly, true

but is what’s left enough to handle

what’s to come?

My only comfort

is that I still have faith the answer is yes.

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