“Dance for me.” I whisper to the words entrenched in the blades of my being. When they listen, they dance diligently at every turn. Going at a h y p n o t i z i n g speed until they d r o p.
Everything is so far away — a tonic away.
Trauma makes abrasions, lines and circles that exquisitely permeate and colour the lens of our eyes; the blood of our mind. Poison’d in entrapment.
I am neither here nor there, my mind, set on tempests. While the heart, plainly beats. flowing words–hold me close; I am sanguine. Brimming with the rich redness of life, repose, and everything in-between. With nothing behind, I cry and cry in sweetness: bound to no thing other than me.
Skin: There are miles to me. Eyes: A deep onyx. Tresses of Indian ink hair locks hang free on my petite frame. Is this beauty? The transient and evolving features that define me? Can you see past the flesh that envelopes me: Hear the lofty and intricate thoughts of my mind, The exorbitant way I […]
I have the same dream every night: I am on a beach. My eyes are closed and my hands – stretched open. I am bathing in the sunlight and marveling at the easiness of the moment. Then, my eyes open. I see the shore, which looks boundless, and a wild jungle positioned miles behind me. […]
“Awaken,” I whisper to something inside of me, hoping to stir something; anything. I feel hollow and dreary like a metal pipe placed in an assembly of plumbage.