cactus petals

alone alone alone alone alive I’ll live adrift and
categorically nameless, abysmal as I
sink sink sink sink and sail as one sweet swirl
unmoored, and yet, memory persists
we see that we built as we sailed as we sank and we
wield our might and fury like cactus petals all bundled in bouquet
late winter blooms, those impossible pollinators
feed the panic that powers us
shoves us headlong to the cusps of broken bridges and we
cobble safe passage from flimsy flotsam
the carrion of sunken ships shattered on a shore
in sands of an impenetrable future, an invisible impossibility
and yet, hands held and heads hollowed by exhaustion
we step step step step and sink together
cells that cannot touch, magnetized by fear
dissolve a space we couldn’t anyway know
peace is joy propelled forever somewhere and together somehow

I used to be so lonely, now I never have been.

I’ve been this self for maybe four years and before her, I was plaster and seaweed, stiff and slimy.
Hadn’t been cracked or cleaned yet and consequently moved through life as a sleek lump could.
She wasn’t weaker but she wasn’t wise.
She her me was lonely along the lines of a straight flat road continuing through a night with no morning, she never believed in the sun and so it never rose, and all that disbelief bottled in the bottom of her brain for double decades and festered.
I used to be so lonely, now I never have been or so it feels most days. Continue reading “I used to be so lonely, now I never have been.”