insignificantly significantly significant

I am cosmically small. 
A tiny, insignificant speck of a girl lost to the rivers of time, helpless to the vast expanse of existence. 

And yet. . . I house thought, and heart, and spirit. 

My body is a beacon of billions of microorganisms. I do not understand my utter insignificance, but I attempt to, and isn't that significant? 

Today, I feel special as I look at the molded yellow walls of the bathroom. I feel important as my knotted curls drip water and conditioner. I could not change the rotation of the Earth if I tried, yet I am a part of the universe; That is significant.

After Image

Some part of me wants to be whole, however, my heart disagrees. My heart and my mind and my throat want to be erased. They want to disappear without a trace. To cease existing seamlessly. Balanced and beautiful in death. 

My tongue wants silence. Heady heavy silence. The kind that melts on your shoulders and stiffens your joints. My eyes, soulful soulless little creatures, want to talk. To convey through dance and sing through sorrow. 

I won't let them. 

I won't let them. 

I can't let them. 

Save my hands, that's all I ask. They alone have seen all I have done.

withered and dried

I feel as if I have somehow forgotten how to write. My vocabulary casts shadows in a barren wasteland. My metaphor has metamorphosed and died. I have no drive, no life, no will. Is this how it ends? My hands on the wheel, foot on the pedal and emergency brake on?
I'm empty. Straining for dust bunny verbs and adjectives that have faded in the sun. 
Nothing is won through my misery. All is lost in my hope.

5/25/19 1:21 PM

Wrack my brain of what remains 
Scattered splatters of dead dying thought 
Lost to the lock and chain of my fear 
Nothing is here between my ears 
I've burned every cell and swallowed the ash 
At last, reminded and reunited with what I have forgotten 
Kindle the coal, reignite my soul 
Dare not leave the barren plain of my home until I have bled my bones dry 
Memory bleached in the sun 
Remembered not for my deeds, but rather what I was to the eye

shallow water

Stagnant water is all I have become.
 A surface lost to my reflection.
What lies beneath that mirrored surface? 
That dusky dusty unmoving water? 
Do I dare ripple the pond, stir the seabed, release the river? 
I must, I must, or I shall eventually dry and die; ascend I say, and fill anew. 

My words make no sense, a jumble of rhyme and smudged ink.
Flowers heavy laden with dew. 

Disturb the glass surface of my mind. 
Treat my thought as clouds, lose my light to rain and time. 

I'm tired- only tired will not explain my formless shape in the sand. 
Exhaustion can only draw in breath for words that will whimper when released. 

Help me I cry, never in an order that is new, never in a way that is understood

the chill of a Happy graveyard

Every time I wish I was dead 
I write a little letter inside my head 
Of wishes and history 
Things better left unsaid 

Seldom do I find the time to rhyme 
These secret little thoughts 
Or allow them space to shine 

They're rather a selfish bunch I think 

For hoping for a day 

The world would be better if I stayed

baby mine

Sweet darling, cradled close

Darling angel, limp against my breast 

Blessed precious, your wide eyed gaze

 Affixed so gentle

Upon my face 

I am not a mother In that I did not bear you 

Did not feed you

I am not a mother in that you did not need me

When you first came to be 

I am a mother in the way that I weep 

For the years lost to us 

The tears you keep 

I am a mother in the way that to watch you breathe 

Releases the terror in my own lungs 

I am a mother in the way that I wait for you to die 

Praying only that it brings you peace

Bug Tanka

little bumbling bug

so busy doing his chores

why do you live bug

when you crunch quick underfoot

your life as fleeting as rain