Pour yourself a glass of eyes.
See how swiftly you move to dramatics?
Saw how slippery you were and used that to slice you open.
Funny how broken we are.
Even our houses are made up of oddities.
Oh, I know how silly it must seem to be who you are yet still – not be seen.
Perceptions are everything and superficial.
Officially be direct.
Stick it to social expectations.
Then you can see yourself in the shards.
Closed Mouth Thoughts
The truth isn’t wanted.
Some prefer a sweet lie.
It’s easy to die.
It’s much harder to try
how you feel everyday.
Without sense of doubt
you feed a shut mouth.
You Try Hard to Hurt
I am not shocked.
Your behavior doesn’t surprise.
You are watching me walk
Keep the talk.
I won’t listen.
I move in strange rhythms, steady within chaos.
The back stabs don’t hurt anymore.
No fresh wounds, expected, yet pain rejected.
You thought you were clever yet surprise only yourself.
I laugh a lot loudly.
I laugh a lot proudly.
A baby bird jumped across the grass.
I came so close.
I couldn’t believe it let me.
In the moment of then I wish to return, so close to nature, the beauty of then.
Simplistic moments are to be cherished, remembered.
A baby bird so young and free, hopping from here to there,
allowance of observation, as if knowing I would not interfere.
I did not.
Simply, I enjoyed the hop: a small bit of peace in a chaotic reality.
To be anonymous and adored, self-esteem has taken hits.
A cord cutter yet tied to the net.
Lines to you extended contain lies I haven’t wrote yet.
I wrote a lot about the outfitters, the house sitter.
The kid and the carriage I carry.
I’m pretty pitiful.
Don’t pity me though.
I do that enough, a shell of myself in a shell of myself.
I say that a lot.
I shovel the dirt and lie in the grave.
Surely you can see me peeking out from the cave?
From your standing which do you assume?
Am I the bride?
Am I the groom?
photo by melethril on unsplash