There’s too much to narrow it down to one thing I could be sitting in a car doing nothing Or flying to a new country I could ski or become political I could be so many feelings For so many reasons But today I choose to just be I just am
Category Archives: Poetry
Chick-A-Dees
The mush inside my head is no good I’m losing altitude or is it depth I’m losing I’m trying to gather my chick-a-dees and I just can’t seem to find them or maybe I’m looking for my marbles who knows I’m going to keep looking -Saschia
Here’s My Hand
What is it that I do not say Mouth slammed shut like my tongue is a trapped mouse the most important thoughts lead out to the ocean Here’s my hand please see inside me Look listen Help me filter through the bullshit So I can finally say what I want to say -Saschia
Softened
Stretched too thin I stiffen My skin hard as rock My mind static as a telephone in the wind I rest in a fetal shape as Waters rush around me A let them I let them rush a by til my brain gets better service And my skin softens again -Saschia
Grateful For You
Thank you for security and stability Your snuggles get me through my dark days And your genuine laugh lights up my soul I’m so grateful to have you as my other whole -Saschia
The Shows Over Now
The banquet hall’s empty Not a single piece of confetti left to prove our existence Bare floors Bare walls A bare heart left in the middle of the room …
Oops
Next time Next time Next time You don’t need to understand Right now -Saschia
Seasons
I sank into a picture perfect fantasy But now, The memories are flooding back The habitual reminders Of why I stopped fighting Why I slowly loosened my grip Why I let go I clinched my empty fists And off went the leaf from my branch It descended in a less elegant manor than I sawContinue reading “Seasons”
Their Togetherness
Their togetherness relies on their a push to love awkwardly It relies on sex and fear Silence and distance Those things push them together It doesn’t rely solely on her Or solely on him Not even rules or religion It’s the bad little things That make them Them -Saschia
Under The Knife
Fear’s shadow lingers in the crack below the door I keep that door locked Even though sometimes it swings wide open I pace by it from time to time But I don’t even touch the handle I hate to twiddle my thumbs While I think up the worst case scenario I don’t even like toContinue reading “Under The Knife”
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