you’ve no idea
what is waiting
to pour through you,
pour from you,
if you’d just get out of the way.
you’ve no idea the river—
demolish that dam,
it is your mind.
demolish that dam,
it is your fear.
demolish,
pour.
Category: Uncategorized
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the very flame
of modernity:
a tea light.
should the Mother sneeze:
snuffed.
mistake not
a house of cards
for brick,
for mortar.
let your stronghold
be a castle in the sky:
let your fortress
be a palace of the mind,
a kingdom
in the heavens,
a throne of ether—
built
on the rock
of what came before,
and what will remain
long after:
after the Moon,
the Earth,
the Sun, the stars
fall,
one by one,
back
into the cauldron.
close your eyes:
you can see it dance
on your lids,
you can feel
the stirring ladle
in your veins,
its soup:
starlight.
what
could be more unshakable
than that
which cannot be touched?
time,
unstoppable force.
the spirit:
immovable object.
-
sometimes,
love’s flame
is a fire that spills forth
as the sky cracks:
dawn’s light.
sometimes,
love’s flame
is a lamp burned.
its oil:
midnight.
love’s labors:
so oft
in those liminal spaces.
the heart’s torch:
the bravest tea light.
this love:
it is a quiet courage.
it has
no hall of fame.
it is
a gift
with no wrapping.
you feed on it—
you cannot see it.
you live on it—
you cannot feel it.
sometimes,
the truest loves
are unspoken,
& unseen,
but lived:
in the shadows.
-
a numinous force, light itself, overtaking the senses, the nervous system, the whole of your being, electrified by something so pure//tidal waves behind the gentlest touch.
-
sit with your sorrow:
it can’t hurt you.
you can.
sit with your fear:
it won’t hurt you.
you can.
sit with yourself.
turn your back?
you’ll stab it.
sit with yourself.
the most basic form of respect:
bearing witness.
sit.
-
there was a look in your eyes
somehow… dead,
yet more alive
than i thought possible.
it looked like
you stared each of your fears
straight in the eye–
then, snakeskin:
they were shed.
it looked like
all that died
were the bits of you
that kept you from living.
i pray
you’ll keep me around,
if only to teach me how.
-
empty arms,
empty heart,
mocked
by the ticking clock:
it tallies
every wasted heartbeat.
my body is stone.
this
is waking sleep paralysis.
some unseen demon
sits upon my chest.
i scream at my limbs:
whose hands
are clasped over their ears?
betrayed by all:
even this
still-alive corpse.
some lives are death
long before the coffin—
some are ash
long before the urn—
this,
this is one of them.
-
Yours was the only bright light that made pupils not constrict, but dilate— as if they knew they needed to drink in as much of you as possible.
-
my book is officially in review and should be available for purchase on Amazon within 72 hours ❤
-
Sober living: it is about learning all the secret ways that exist to get drunk that they don’t tell you about. Love letters with a sweetheart: there is no greater wine. Breaths timed with the sea’s lazy waves: what intoxication. Dancing without a care, not a drop of alcohol in the veins: it’s a form of nakedness, nothing more liberating. Spirits, spirits, spirits: they are everywhere.
THE CLOSET MYSTIC 