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Literature Text
Dreams only take you so far
before they crush you
with expectations
and their un-fulfillment.
You cannot move
with bones so broken,
and a stomach
so lead-heavy
with swallowed pride.
And wing'd hope flies from the fear
of a life well wasted,
leaving you nightmare-shackled
to your potential
screaming in stasis.
before they crush you
with expectations
and their un-fulfillment.
You cannot move
with bones so broken,
and a stomach
so lead-heavy
with swallowed pride.
And wing'd hope flies from the fear
of a life well wasted,
leaving you nightmare-shackled
to your potential
screaming in stasis.
Literature
remuneration
there were dreams of abasement, tearing up at the thought of
the noxious corners of your eyes. i saw them at a glance and fell
headfirst in the Styx, catching billowing waves of uncertainty and
heartache. they crashed with a decade-begrudged mind that was far
from healing -- far from me.
and though the fall was abrasive and the
waves, their own harangue, their heartache
and toxins faded & found graphite talismans
engraved in a red wrist warmer.
the ground that my blood decorated, with a history of broken bone
marrows now showed how unnecessary a transplant w
Literature
The process
press your
middle finger into your palm and it bends
around its spinal cord
fluidly
bending to your will, you think so
catch it
in your fist. like a crumpled bird scratching its hollow bones
the squeezing of paper with paper
that your nails push
back
into your fingers. you are breaking open your senses by
breaking its wing like
a hawk
tearing
off
the neck of an eagle.
Literature
process
think how much blood
a woman sees
in a year, a lifetime.
think how very much more
one like me
encounters—think what happens
when bleeding becomes
less necessity
and more art. think of every
scratch and graze, every glaze
of rust-coloured paint
you've worn on your skin
as armour.
then multiply that by three.
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I am so much wasted space.
© 2012 - 2024 TheLunaLily
Comments82
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...screaming in stasis. But not in a vacuum. No. Everything you write and everything you are makes a difference in this world. Nobody who shares LIFE the wonderful way you do is ever "wasted space." But I think you know that (usually or maybe) and I know I do. You give and give and give, and never hold back (not much) and I know you're doing the right thing because you write it. 
I recently posted a "dream" poem I held back for a long time, considering whether to delete it, and then I put it out there and called 'urban & spoken word'--and I don't know if anyone's figured out how true it was, but will you read it and tell me what you thinkt? I don't even know if it was a nightmare or a revelation, but it moved me to make a poem -and I can't even write poetry- so here's "Done" [link] -hope the link is right. And know I love both you and your poems, I just haven't been online much to say so, to say much to anyone. Still...
I recently posted a "dream" poem I held back for a long time, considering whether to delete it, and then I put it out there and called 'urban & spoken word'--and I don't know if anyone's figured out how true it was, but will you read it and tell me what you thinkt? I don't even know if it was a nightmare or a revelation, but it moved me to make a poem -and I can't even write poetry- so here's "Done" [link] -hope the link is right. And know I love both you and your poems, I just haven't been online much to say so, to say much to anyone. Still...