Poem-A-Day #339 : Hope Chest

Hope Chest

The box full of things - unnamed as they are -
hold the history of place in the reflection imposed surface

The sun comes from behind eclipse - it
momentarily explodes - loses itself - becomes a break in the lack of air

This is opening - a seam of paper tape - a fold
sun echoing in pulp - in dust

What are these broken lines of thought
burning a hole in the universe of a closet - they flap like broken doves

Beak cracks - the rubble of it - a light bearing
fruit - rotting and burning and searing the faces of memory

Poem-A-Day #136 : Self Help

I'm without internet for a few days so I'll be trying out the Blogger app for the first time. I'm afraid. Hold me.

Which is exactly what young me was telling himself in this journal entry.

See what I did there?

Side note: young me should have written self help posters. Or Hallmark cards.

1/25/99

Stop them from doing it to you
Stop them from making you into what they want
Stop the incessant voices that hurt you
Stop being who they need you to be and be who you are
Stop looking for ways out and open the door
Stop staring trough the glass and break that shit open and let the air in