I used to write poetry when I was young. It fell out of my heart and remained caught in a blank space for a long time, but I have made room in my heart for poetry again. It feels good. This piece is like time-travel and speaks from a place in my past.
Longing
I long to travel where my body cannot go;
through doors and walls and windows
to unseen worlds of dizzying possibility.
I lie awake, willing a single silver cord
to emerge from my body like an astral umbilicus.
At the mirror I chant I AM
and wait for the reflected worlds behind me to unfold
like petals after a spring rain,
worlds that will swallow me into nothingness.
One day I will scream for an hour so shards of my
shattered heart will break my brain into halves
and I will disappear between them.
Float away, Self, I whisper in my dreams
that follow me like twisted shadows.
Float away and unwind the becoming,
banners at rest and respectfully waiting,
all time suspended.
