psittacosisthere are featherspsittacosis by chromeantennae
in the endless pit
of my stomach;
in the clavicular head
of my chest.
my gut, travailing
from the bottom up;
from my lips.
before it is clawed open
by the talons
of these hallowed doves.
in a bed of ankles
k(n)eeling me over;
a million sheets of quills
scaling my sheath;
and religion-weight over
my frame angles
dear momdear mom,dear mom by back-bones
I remember that one tuesday after my first year of college
you took me shopping and told me you wanted to get me
a nice white dress.
you said, “my baby, she’s going to graduate college soon,”
and picked a beautiful lace dress off the sale rack, a smile
on your face I hadn’t seen since my sister was born, and then
you told the woman at the cash register, “can you believe it?
my daughter is going to graduate college. and I didn’t even
finish my first year of high school.”
the woman at the register smiled at us both, even though
the shop was crowded and she was probably tired. you
were tired too, because you drove all the way to boston
by yourself after work, just to come pick me up from school.
I remember when I was young, you told me smiles made you tired.
you smiled this day. you always said you hated your smile,
because growing up you didn’t have the best teeth, but I loved to
see your smile, because it reminded me that you, to
(33) Handpicked: Nature, Musings and Carmalain7:iconhello1plz::iconhello2plz: :iconclearheartsplz:(33) Handpicked: Nature, Musings and Carmalain7 by cristinewakesuphappy
can you sit still and just be in awe of nature?
here is a journal page for pieces of art that might inspire you the way they inspire me.
thank you for taking the time to bask in their beauty.
Nature and Musings
poems inspiring me to write my own
Matins by Carmalain7Penumbra by Carmalain7
L'exil et le Royaume: Les Muets by Carmalain7
vibrating skies echo adorationit's storming outsidevibrating skies echo adoration by chromeantennae
and this morning,
you flutter around
in my mind as strong
as the thunder rolls in
from the mesh of clouds.
affection even in the anger
of ayem, ahem, and a hymn,
i find the hem of your voice
etched into the stitches of my mind.
a storm brews in the darkness
of incoming morn
and you are the breath
to my bristled and hushed voice
in the bout of drained vapor
and wrung loud fading moons.
it feels like trying to keep my stomach from climbing out of my throat and flopping to the floor (now my insides lie wet and cold between us) while I clutch my empty torso and I can't breathe because I go to sleep and no one is there, because you reached into my chest and pulled out my lungs and threw them away (I search every trashcan you might have touched but I can't find them, I still can't find them) so I cover my eyes and pretend you're not just an inch out of reach
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