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Little City

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Too Big To Fail

I slipped away

and no one noticed.

I called out to you

all of you

standing on the edge of the inky blackness

of the turbulent ocean.

You all smiled and waved

assured me of my safety.

Told me my strength would save me.

Told me to have hope.

And then I slipped

Slowly sliding into the waves

I reached out and cried for help

The imminent darkness and danger crashing over me.

You all could not help.

Faces turned away or

Looking at me in distinct disbelief of the situation.

But I’m so strong? How did this happen? This can’t be true

This titan cannot fail.

And there she went

crumbling to the waves

leaving one hand out for rescue while she slipped under.

No one came for me.

Ring Around My Waist

image

I’ve been living a life
Too tight to fit.
It’s small on me, like
It was made for someone else.
I ended up with this
Accidentally.
It’s clung to me and changed my perception
Changed how I see me
Changed how I see the world.
Some of it has been good
It has squeezed me out of my snug little shell
And into the big world
But I can’t wear this life anymore.
Peeling it off has cause pain and discomfort
But this life is to small.
There’s something great waiting for me.
Time for me
To change.

Fluffy Perception

image

I numb it all down
Soften the edges and
Fluff the middle.
The entire world becomes an orb
Soft and glowing
Fuzzy and gentle.
It can’t hurt me this way.
I change it all,
The entire place
Becomes warm and inviting
Tender and sweet
Harmless and kind.
It’s all a bit blurry
It’s all a little hard to see
But when you slip into the numb
Gently falling into the
Caress of the earth
Wrapping yourself in the comfort
Of this shortsightedness
This inability to see
And differentiate
You gladly sacrifice wit
For the ability to relax
And finally sleep.

The Beauty of Buzzards

courtesy ridgefieldbirds.com

courtesy ridgefieldbirds.com

I watch them circle

Off in the distance.

Swirling, turning, floating higher.

Graceful, silent, never flapping.

They gather and hover

A black menacing mass

Churning above something mysterious

Something unseen.

They are death

And Disease.

They are harbingers of all

We wish to ignore.

These silent, soft graceful things

Gliding on forever

Seen to only symbolize things that

Terrify and

Disgust.

They swirl off and away.

Never flapping

Only gliding

Like giant black kites of

Stigma.

I will gaze upon them again tomorrow.