Category Archives: Poetry

My dream world

In my dreams there are places I've never been 

I wonder if we meet there when we both dream.

The places aren't old, nor are they new.
they are definitely not blue,
are they maybe borrowed?

While they are just the same, over again,
and I know that I've been there before.

Opening up like a maze, it just makes sense
once you get there, but never before.

I keep walking through door after door,
up the stairs, and then down the stairs.

Yet its core is out of my reach,
it's like a place I'll never breach.

Then in that stairwell, you give me your
hand and show me the door,
which leads to that central core.

It opens up, to a big cafeteria, and people laugh and talk,
the clock strikes 5 and they have closed their shop,
but we can still see the tasty treats offered up.

This is a place I've never seen,
yet so many times in my dreams I've been.

It comes back all over again
and becomes its own in my mind,
in our shared dreamland.

This poem was not sponsored by my patrons, but it could be in the future. If you would like me to be able to write more of them, feel free to head over my patreon and check out the tiers there, $2 will hopefully eventually start sending poetry straight into your inbox! (it’s a process)
Alternatively, check out my support page for more info.


Poem: Crutches

They are my support
To help me walk,
Every day.

If I lose one
I make damned sure
To keep the other one.

While slightly imbalanced
I can still walk
With only one crutch.

Tomorrow
I'll be back on two
Balancing myself again.

If I drop both,
Insisting I can walk
Alone without them
I hurt myself more
Causing pain, tears.

Tearing up wounds
With each step

Tore down my defense
My support
My crutches

Neglecting myself
Hurting myself
Killing myself

Mania,
triggered,
paralyzed.

Breathless.
Through the dark.

Recovery.
Day by day.

Silence. Alone.
With this pain.

Never will I drop all my medicine on the same day, ever again.

a whiff of fallen leaves

I wanted to describe the smell
Of the fallen leaves, rustling
Smelling like only fall leaves do

Different than the decomposed
Spring smell
Still indicative of season change

What words do I use
For these dry heaps
Of fallen leaves
So you can smell them too?

Do they smell the same
In every place where leaves fall
In the fall?

The smell is stronger
When moisture meets each leaf
Something about the surface
Connecting with the air,
Spreading small molecules
Flowing through the air
And finding their way there

To your nostrils
Their final resting place
In the fall, when they calm
You down and tell of the ending season

Sick and Sick

Being sick and energetic. 
It's such a weird combination.
I'm not the same sick now
as I was then,
but rather I'm a normal kind of sick
instead of abnormal.
You know, then I was undiagnosed,
and sick for years
--just imagining things--
now I'm here and queer, wait that's not right.
Well it's exactly right but not for this conversation.

My throat needs clearing
my lungs help out,
one cough after another,
an itch impossible to scratch
deep down my throat.
It's like the words are just stuck down there,
unable to move, clawing at my throat
from the inside. Screaming LET US OUT!

What is so strange about this kind of sick
is that it's supposed to be normal
but it doesn't feel normal
because I already have plans to do other things,
what do you mean I have to cancel my plans
and take it easy?
I spent 8hrs doing nothing yesterday, isn't that rest?
Not enough,
apparently.
And here I am. Better than ever but also sick

Being sick and energetic.
It's such a weird combination.
Sick in a way I have not been in a long time,
after cutting ties with the outside world.
after not being able to go out there and enjoy it,
I am now right here today going stir--not crazy
--I'm restless, but I need to rest,
because I've got a cold,
or tonsillitis, who knows.
But the cold isn't getting better
and I'm bored of resting.

Please LET ME OUT.

How can you be sick when you're this energetic.
It was just a small cough--What do you mean I lost my voice. Oh..

Being sick and energetic.
It's such a weird combination.
Is that why they are trapped there,
the words I want to share.
Clawing at the inside of my throat, screaming, and crying.
Please please, dear Madame let me out?


This poem was not sponsored by my patrons, but it could be in the future. If you would like me to be able to write more of them, feel free to head over my patreon and check out the tiers there, $2 will hopefully eventually start sending poetry straight into your inbox! (it’s a process)
Alternatively, check out my support page for more info.