Tag: Anxiety

Poetry · Writing

Clint E.

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i use to wr-

i use to post a lot, small moments

covered in a scarf

or bundles of blankets

like a timeline of me.

& somewhere along the way

i started to take in

this negativity that spawned:

some from these memories

from the dread of time

the doubt i have over these dreams.

more input then

i could process

all the good the bad and the ugly.

if everything was put into a blender

mashed, spewed out of a topless container

caught in all of my gears

along my side

locked up

& eventually

my audience lost interest in my work-

myself.

so now

high noon

moon beaming down like a spotlight.

crisp evening air blows through a chipped scarf down to these worn denim.

whistles of a challenger:

matching gray python boots and pistol

all that’s left is a trail of smoke and an eye meeting mine.

he whispers, “Every gun makes its own tune”.

Poetry · Writing

a little space

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this little space

this little space that we carved out of wooden tools

this little space – is ours.

dingy dirty damp,

full of holes and ants in the summer

but it’s ours.

this little space

in outer space

they can see us dance

first time at second base

setting up our bookcase.

when we left

this little space

all that was left

some kid shoes, a needle and a jar of pickles,

this little place

has a lot of memories

packed in two separate cars.

Poetry · Writing

honey dipp III

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it’s like

we turned the clock;

left everything

the way it was,

except for us.

i’ve changed.

either for good or for bad-

the road traveled

left scars

memories;

made a lot of 2nd opinions

on things once ruled out.

to give everything a second chance

so life

doesn’t have

anymore

what ifs.

Poetry · Writing

december a few years ago;

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it was just a gesture

something simple;

but i hold it like a widow holds their child

something;

irreplaceable.

i wonder

what me now

would tell

a me

not ready to hear about the future.

at that time

the single grain of rice

had the weight of the world,

steamed

and afraid of loss.

i’d tell him

i think i’d tell him

you’re right

this loss,

won’t feel like another

because it was real.

Poetry · Writing

untitled 21

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modern warfare

is behind a keyboard-

twitter fingers;

have i-

i wonder

what the guy in the lemon jacket i saw at the movie theater

does on his free time.

the girl i saw in the polka dot dress eating a bagel outside of a ross

is insecure about.

have i ever

been so exposed,

bare skin riding the sun like a mechanical bull-

no.

i don’t think i’d buy the lemon jacket

if i saw it at a ross,

i’d stick out

but i’d try it on.

Poetry · Writing

regis tower

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we took the elevator to the top floor

sunny day, we came to play, in my arms till we’re all gray.

wondering how we got this high

in the middle of july

you beautiful monarch butterfly-

and than you were gone.

flew away too a city not far away.

i can’t cross that border

elevator out of order;

floor 99 these stairs are loud

95 the people form a crowd

92 i can’t remember how i got here

84 maybe i should just disappear

why the fuck is the elevator out of order

is this my disorder?

62 i wonder if the people that wrote Dexter realized it was bad

58 mj’s greatest hits and we start bad

i can hear the rain outside

droplets searing like cyanide

44 chest beating like a drum

than why do i feel so numb.

52 i can hear the sound of your voice

pretend that my words are from joyce

sit around sing clap an rejoice

66 here is good- i like here,

safe from the rain and the sun

nothing can touch me today

just the eye of a seer

when all is said and done

i don’t want to block the walkway