Xanadu
 

I live in the chassis. Not a four wheel drive but a home with endless memories. Not many are allowed in my chamber of safety. Where I control the movement. What level of gas in the tank– or the way the wheel is turned. Decorated with a glittery rim around the push to start button. The gear shift is coming up and leaving its socket occasionally. Bodies who climbed across the center console to console me. I welcome people in so they never felt like I did. A stranger in a strang

I enjoy my thoughts of dread. I live in my room that is full of nothing. I look to the future  and let it pass me by.  I despise the draining doubts that I discover when I’m alone.  I stare at my ceiling.  If I stare longer, harder, more attentively… Will I find an answer? No.  There are no answers written on my ceiling. There are no answers found in the folds of my brain. All I see is the hazelnut paint coating my ceiling.  All I hear is a droning noise  radiating from my al

Where do I belong in a world of hate and pain,  selfishness thrives. We remain unyielding to— change. Winds consume me. Overpowering.  The sails of the boat hang loose. I fight in vain to sail against its gusts— how futile are the acts I commit to go against.  We cannot fight gravity. We cannot fight nature. We cannot fight change. However, there is an end to every storm A light that shines.  A bird that chirps with the delight of an innocent child.  Though we may try, time’s

-after Emily Dickinson Hope is the composition of a musician— Chords progressing over the course of the piece— Decrescendoing to the softest Piano, Then gradually growing to the greatest Forte. Although sharp staccatos stab the paper, The Coda takes us back to the softer section— Where tenutos talk us to a gentle Slumber— While music continues on—forever.

There you are, Standing in the kitchen. While the warm stench of dinner, lingers in every corner of the apartment. Toys scattered all over the floor. TV shouting laughter and cartoons. You tell me to go clean my room. But I am not done playing make believe. I am not done recording my barbie dolls, as their plastic smiles star in my little world. I am not done hiding in the tent with my brother, where the only sound in the room is our heartbeats. Shushing each other and laughi

The glass is stuck. Encapsulated by calloused skin, unsure if it is still in. But with every stinging step  it’s confirmed. The tweezers urging it to leave. The shard grasping to stay. It prays, pleads, and persuades. The cold metal tries but the translucent piece won't go. There is no telling if it is still there unless you take another possibly  painful step. I could never understand why it would want to stay  if it was being begged to leave.

Face stained with confusion. Comprehension becomes routine. Being overwhelmed provides comfort. Moments of silence instil worry as rest feels unnatural. Undescribably dystopian. Why can’t  you take a break? I exist on my fingertips swiftly jabbing each key. I exist in the crease of my hand forming a tight knot, my pencil tightly gripped. I exist brooding at red markings of my mistakes. My existence is tension filled. I am where there  is no room to breathe. Fuelling me in an

To pertain to, Appropriate for another To be unique yet not a bother Knowing your place today  Begins with unknowing your pride To be the property of, Existing for the sake of another  The concept of god: human idolization, a vice, a lover  Teetering on the line of purpose and encapturement  To be desired,  Getting lucky to find another Warming the ice around my four-leaved clover  Sired to the sense of value Celibate to being alone yet still lonely internally  Replace anothe

I belong in the silence between utterances where my name rests and no one dares to reach for it. a spirit once whispered, you are worth so much but not more than the person next to you. their truths fell like gentle rain upon my shoulder, an anchoring and liberating sentiment. I belong in the little things: a door held open, a quiet companionship, laughter at an inopportune time. I need not glow by myself. were one big galaxy, not brighter nor dimmer, just stars who have come

Beginning. Once again  In wild delirium Boundless Incorruptible, unscorchable. Contagious outbursts of Unloosed hysteria. Tangible palpable solid  Adrenaline Pumping to heartbeats. Steady rhythm growing louder  And louder until I take root Above. Loud, bubbling Euphoria Coursing through my blood. Conceived from deep inside my gut Continually strobing, Reappearing in my chest  And exiting in an unyielding breath of musical laughter. Stress—it ended with squeezing,  Straining,