where i fell

depression is a heavy pair of pants
that stand on their own in front of me
beside my bed
on a rainy day
on a sunny day
to be honest,
i never looked out the window

OR
i sat here
like a bed of flowers
in the shade
by cold grey memories
and thoughts of nominal motivation
writing the story of my life
in my head

with a limp hand
a pencil not a pen
worn out eraser 
skipping the best parts
hurting myself
on the worst parts
a suicide note
and even that page is blank...

every casual thought stalked by
a scarier, more critical comment
(thinking) (in) (parentheses) (?)
(..) (...) (..)

if this is where i fell,
how did i
ever
get back up?

awakening

inspired by audre lorde

why
do we write things
that we know
we will
forget

why give our memories
a place to die

why
these scars
things i cannot change
stripes on my skin
(on the page pens scrape sharp as teeth)


in a forest
where i fiercely
dwell

the tiger's kill
moans and swells
always a sound sleep
in a silent stalked grass
atop a green blushing hill

belly full
and howling moon
trees hold a solemn silence

pieces of my ear
tossed into the mouths of wolves
scent lost in the wind

under the shroud of night
a naked body wrestles in the sheets
a distant trail of ants converge over the hill
a claw uncurls into the sky
lamps flicker:eyes open

insight

i think i can
waters of the soul
in this forest
i am not alone
pond where i became whole
cloud of swirls
	tongue of pearls
myself
within myself.