Monday, September 3, 2018

Thoughts on giving up

Don’t give up 

When the world outside 
is asking too much 
and everyone I know 
grows sharp teeth
and everything they say 
sounds like a request for blood 
I look inside 
Take a walk across my desert 
Feel my feet fall upon sand
that is dry and cracked 
Listen for the rustling 
of dying leaves 
Brush the tallest weeds 
against the palms 
of my outstretched hands
When it seems like 
the stranger is pushing 
I wonder if maybe 
it is the friend who is pulling 
Who will not give up 
Will not let me give up on myself 
I play games
of hide and seek
I place bandaids of pride
on my dodgeball strawberries
and I pick myself last 
for kickball 
every time 

Not yet deciphered

The Magpie has a bad reputation
for thievery and deviance
but the truth is
they are curious and misunderstood
Crows and Ravens are labled
with omen and mystery
but actually they speak complex languages
not yet deciphered
with variations of accents, regions and species 
Like a parrots phrases 
begging for attention 
and connection 
with obnoxious reitieration 
we mimic the separation we are shown 
In the midst of our instant replay disbelief
we loop the recording on repeat 
Polly want a cracker
Polly want to crack
Polly wants
and then cracks


we push ourselves to broken 
before we allow ourselves to rest 
in another’s arms 
if we ever do at all

Sometimes we live inside our shells 
wrapped in our own arms 
never knowing the difference 
until we come to the end of our life 
and rot inside our egg 

Sometimes we wiggle the constriction
hairline fractures appear 
and we peer out
eyes pressed against the openings 
Blinded by the light 
watching from the inside 

Sometimes we bust and fumble
with clumsy excitement 
dance on eggshells 
fall to the ground 
and bounce hard 
stretch our wings  
and try again 

Sometimes we figure out 
how to slice through the thickness 
that holds so much resistance 
and for a moment we know
that falling 
is not 
the end

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