We The Few Can See Them, The Lonely Hearts, The Spirits, The Wandering Lovers Cursed To Bring Love To

Sad in the Desert

Its harder being sad in the desert

The wind bites instead of hugs

The voices of people who shouldn’t have been there in the first place, dug their heels in and decided to die just to spite the people who told them to leave

My ancestors don’t whisper in the long pull of an American Spirit, not out here

My grandfathers voice doesn’t sit at the bottom of that bottle of Jack saying “girl if you don’t straighten up”

Its harder to be sad in the sands and scrub

Its barren and cold

You cant get away from your emotions by walking through the trees and just crying out to the leaves, telling the wind to take your sorrow

Theres just sand, sand and dry

I guess that’s one thing about being sad in the desert,

The tears evaporate right off your face like the desert is taking everything from you, even the salt and water from your tears, even the salt in your blood you give to the desert it takes and takes

Doesn’t think about what to leave so you can keep on surviving so it can take again tomorrow

Its harder to be sad in the desert

I dont know if you can call it “coming of age” when you’re 25, coming into my own I guess. It when your body changes again, like it did ten years ago. Except now the joy you felt at the physical signs of womanhood, are replaced with disgust, fear and revulsion at the reminders of all the ways you are not what you want to be and all the ways that others see you merely as weapons, or tools to be used and abused.

I am coming into my own, into a series of fights that feel like I have entered the ring too late to win.

I am afraid

I am tired

I feel as if any fight that I had was long ago drained away

I want to want to fight, I want to want to resist

But if I am being honest with my self the only fight I have any energy for is the fight not to off myself

And in that moment of honesty is peace.

I want to lay down in the dry and brittle grass, I want to give up, I want to die I do I would rather die than continue to be stuck between what is and what I cannot have

I want to farm, and be at peace, and write and sleep soundly, and be held by those who love me and for my greatest enemies to be deer who eat my radishes and the rabbits stealing herbs from my garden

I want to drift away into oblivion, into the dark unknown of life after death or nothing after death at this point I don’t much care

But also I want to rage against the dying of the light

I want to fight fight fight

I want to try to make the world a better place for all

I want to try to create lands that are safe

but i just dont know how and I dont have the energy

More poetry for you

A short one this time

I'm a Summers child

I sup on rays of dust suspended in oxygen and filtered through sunlight

My bones are simply vehicles for the green scent of life growing against all odds on a cliff face

The cold pulls the will to live out of me, away from me, like a sieve my pores turn to the gaping maw of winter as all the me-ness of me seeps out and freezes with the tulips buried under snow

Hunger in the Skin and Soul

Sometimes you need to be held, 

The skin holds a hunger that can only be thwarted by the touch, the pressure of someone who loves you. 

But underneath that hunger 

underneath that layer of Mud and Stone that we call Blood and Bone, 

lies a heart, 

A soul, 

A song, 

Something that screams and howls with pain, something that coos and purrs with happiness, something that sighs and moans with pleasure, something that rages and riots with anger. 

Souls need to be felt 

and Hands need to be held

Hello to my 6 followers and the 71 BOTS THAT ARE FOLLOWING

The 6 real people, I love you thank you for being here

The Boys, WHYYYY???

Nobody told me about the day after trauma

That id go over to my grandmother's house and work in the garden

That id eat donuts and pull weeds and talk to cousins and friends and almost forget

Forget the violence id seen

And then something, a word, a picture, a thought slams me back into that moment

Transports me back to being scared and helpless and vulnerable and alone

And all of a sudden it passes and in expected to keep laughing and I do but only on the outside

Musing on “Adult Life”

The Phrase “Well that sounds like Adult Life” accompanied by the indicative chuckle as if I am nothing but a lowly child instead of a full-fledged adult who pays their own bills and holds a degree in a field you can barely pronounce, much less understand. 

You have no interest in anything except your own personal gain and whatever you are interested in that moment, which has been the same topic since you were literally 14. 

I refuse to apologize for having ambition, 

I refuse to apologize for expecting others to do their damn jobs so that I could do mine 

I refuse to apologize for being me 

The Red Backpack

What do you do when it hurts this much?

I don’t even know where the pain comes from. It’s a combination of loneliness and longing I think. But why? I thought I was perfectly happy, I have nothing to be this upset over! 

I am blessed, so why do I feel cursed?

Why do I feel like every person on the planet is mocking me? Why do I feel so alone? What’s wrong with me? am I really lying to myself that badly? will I end up like the man at the library talking to someone no longer there I imagine his story 

Ours is a life of certain uncertainty and frustrating simplicity

- J.M. Bodenschatz 

“What would you have me do? O Great and Powerful Man?” 

nothing, I would have you do naught but that which you wish 

“What would you have me be?” 

nothing, I only want what you are, I have no desire for you to be anything but what you will 

“So, what’s the catch? Why do you seek this?” 

beloved, you ask the wrong questions, 

“What then should I ask?” 

what will I do for you? 

“Fine, my darling, beloved, he who knows my soul, what would you do for the one who has laid claim to your heart?” 

I would thread flowers in your hair and worship you as you lay in fields of golden grain, I would remove all barriers before you and watch as you fly chasing the breeze. I would be your wings. I would be your home. I would put the universe in your hands because I want to see you tear it down and rebuild it in your image. I would see you become all that you could be, terrifying and powerful. I would tremble at your sight, but not with fear. I would love you and all that you are were and shalt be.