A revolution beginning, in me, speaking up, sneaking out. That words, thoughts, not necessarily fitted between. In lines marching, dire drums beating. To the edge of a cliff, falling off. I see the sky.
Purpled overhead, blooming clouds. Wind, while falling, booming in my ears. The drums, though fallen, still beating. Thump. thump. Thump Thump. thump.
The hits come hard and heavy. Explaining, why I love the sound of rain. Heavy on the thinning apartment roof. Heavy on my skin. On my mind.
I need to be not afraid
Cloistered here, in arrays of self
Deceit, deafening, my self, pretending
Confidence, strength. Certainly,
Certain I am not, not afraid, that I
Bending on wires, maintaining
Facade-like wax candles dripping on,
Wrapped canvas hanging on, me
Myself, I, what, is existing really so wonderful?
In self definitions, declarations. Declared:
I need to not be afraid
Of mishaps, mis-adventures, mistakes, of
Feeling, caring, emotion. Of love, the
Belief that such could exist. Of trust, and
Fingers lingering warm, wet paths on icy
Reflections of captured clouds. The world
Wrapped up in conflating, congratulating,
Confusing, conflating judgements of worth
While guessing at our selves, ’til
The many layers, overgrown, now peeled
Away. Nothing but the seed, perhaps dead now
Inside. I need not to be afraid.
Per usual, I am curious as to people’s interpretations. Back-posting a little, but these were written yesterday and today. I was going to flesh both out more, but then they seemed to join together somehow?
Not sure why, but always in the path of creating. After I get past the initial “yay, I’m making stuff again, why do I not do this more constantly, this is fun” stage, there is the “nothing is good, why do I even bother, so tired” stage. And then usually there is the “too tired, just going to take a break, see you in a few” stage which lasts until the next “so bored, need to make things” event. Guess which part of the cycle I’m at now. Anyway, I am going to make it through my own challenge. I am.