Kryptonite, Mental Health

Rupture

Rupture

Feels like an eternity chill on the rank,
As a rook passes through my heart
The forget-me-nots decay
The white elephant just fades,
To that room
Filled with regretfully sandblasted sculptures
The opportunities never fully-opened
Like fallen snowflakes on shoes,
Melting and evaporating
Sinking truth broken
Particle by particle
Pressure released
Downpour to the deep

 

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Mental Health

Elasticity

The self sabotage roping you in.
How to trust in that shaky hydra of skin?
As you search through it all,
Everything you thought was love;
Horded into corners.
Pushed aside, rummage through,
When your mind can bare to touch it.
Separate the conversations,
Into more tolerable piles.

Stacked up to the ceiling;
All those long ago friends.
You behooved their art,
Spinning wonder towards
The ethereal 9 to 10.
Treasures found in medicine cabinets, borrowed hasselblad lap shots
On bedspreads, and shower curtains,
Became sudden backdrops.

His black hair tugs
At your memory strings.
Backwards in the darkroom
For the make-out session.
Only wanted you as a moving stranger.
We exposed and dramatized our Destructions.
Too much vodka weeping
And highway speeding.
But he followed you home;
To thread you into a knot
And began to call you his friend.

How many more after him?
Lowell’s alarm,”they’ll never come back.”
His firewords,
Burned it all down,
Heaps of ashes.
It was idealistic,
The origin of expectations
For them.
At last you can’t pretend.

In the morning,
You still have your asana
And a mantra to reshape and liberate; everything you’ve enslaved.
For daily shallow sighs, eventually snowballs into an avalanche.
Only your breath remains
For the restitution.

Art: Sara Willett

Words: Nara

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