A-buzz

I’m doing well I suppose,

I remember worse times, the worst,

Running on empty vessels as all the blood went to my brain, and my heart and made me a-buzz with fear and haste and agitation for months.

When I stood shaking in the shower, feeling odd in my own body, feeling strange behind the glassy plastic.

Advertisements

Systemic Sorrow

And in this present moment, on the other side of town.

Another mind aches as yours does.

A kindred Sorrow over brick walls and rooftops.

A Sorrow builds and grows in fluxing rivets, unpleasant surging swell,

renewal taking strength from hordes of sources,

running together, coming together,

into a living organ that reaches into living things.

It doesn’t remain shadowy.

It was never abstract.

And the lucky are touched by it’s delicate hand,

And the rest are stomped into the tread of it’s boot.

“How long have I been away?”

Carla became a bag of wet sand and a quiver ran under her face,

She was leaving to a place unwillingly visited.

Her body hardened to a frozen hunk while she flitted over the time barrier, through the pain-wall, to be cast down so cruelly into the fray.

Her new body was the trauma she had once felt, in the past – crystallised into a glass sculpture of herself.

She grasped to be let out behind rustling crepe paper eyelids and the screams escaped, but she couldn’t hear them under thick syrup.

“Flashback” gives the illusion of speed, but the shutter can keep clicking.

Soothing dimness of a laptop screen with the brightness settings down – a note to a laptop

Gentle cool light holds me and I hold it.

We can be so supportive of each other now, symbiotic.

You can be a crutch and a confessional catalyst for my catharsis,

You can be a listening ear in the dead-time night,

You can be glorious opportunity to throw my words out into the canal and receive them back, so quick, so elegant.

You, the same machine that crushed me with your thousand emails of things I hadn’t done,

You were my labouring into heavy nights of swimming lights and streams of bitter words I didn’t feel proud of,

You were a reminder of my failing to connect, but even then, when my facebook was a social minefield and my emails were a never-willingly-visited place,

You’d let me watch your screen and fade to black, “Are you still watching?” You’d ask.

Of course I am, you absolute foolish rectangle.