A Good Rest

She closes her eyes,
the bed bugs have scuttled off into the woods,
and the moths gathered around her neighbor’s
bug shocking light.
A breeze tickles her nose
so she pulls the blankets up up up
over her shoulders.
She dreams of singing skeletons
and dancing dead men who church
chocolate with small men from
a land no one has ever heard of.
A star falls and grants her wishes
as she sleeps a good sleep
with warm blankets
and dreams to keep her busy

Saschia Johnson

Rest Will Come

Jayne.Press

Jayne.Press·2 days ago

Dignity is to dream without ceasing

Photo by Jackson David on Unsplash

She wiggles her toes
and reaches toward the heavens
it’s not so far, she heard in a song
the heavens, that is. It is
much closer than we think. At least
that’s what they tell us.

is it hope that I cling to
while I wrestle with his faith
faith in me faith in God — faith
a silent thing that pulses with
confirmation when you let it come

Is it dignity to release hope?

Is it dignity to release faith?

No, a stern no.

It is dignity to clutch on
even when there is so much left to lose.

Saschia Johnson

Photo by Brian Mann on Unsplash

Sandals

Queen Shit

Photo by Oladimeji Odunsi on Unsplash

The red sea divides
the waves crash and hold their place
she walks between
unscathed
untouched and welcomed
into new lands as she breaks free
from the past
that clung to her
like wet clothes on a hot summer day
now she’s got
sand between her toes and
she doesn’t even need her sandals

Saschia Johnson

originally posted on Jaynepress.medium.com

Go Out and Give it Away

You know that thing you’re clinging on to too tight, it’s time to give it away.

Photo by Diego PH on Unsplash

The tighter you squeeze
the less it can breathe

Give it away.

Stop holding it secret
or hostage or in the dark corner
of your closet

Give it away.

It wasn’t meant to be
saved for only you and
the few you choose

Give it away.

-Saschia Johnson

Photo by Jimmy Chang on Unsplash

Originally posted on Jaynepress.medium.com

The highlighted lines are the lines my medium community really enjoyed. Thanks for reading.

The Wind Collector

What does it mean to be a whole person?

He toils away
his days tossed like the dirty laundry
that’s left next to the hamper.
Not an ounce of passion
pulses through his tired veins.

His insides sink below the earth
while his muscle memory does the work

Am I of any use here? he shouts to the heavens.
The wind places itself into his net
What use am I to the wind?

 — “

-Saschia Johnson

Prompt response to Diana’s publication Know Thyself Heal Thyself

This poem was originally published on a Medium publication titled Know Thyself Heal Thyself. The highlighted sections are the lines Medium readers appreciated most.

Bitten

Lyme Disease and Lovers

Photo by Park Street on Unsplash

My fourth chakra swells
and thumps in strange ways

I’ll adjust I’ll adjust I’ll adjust,

it beats at 3am or
just past 10

There is no rhyme or reason
maybe a rhythm but that’s
some other vibration

My mouth howls
for… for… for
the fog to clear

For a moment of art
to come tumbling into my arms

like a lost lover with no where else to turn

there she would sit and stare

until I make her into the masterpiece
she’s been begging for the world to see

-Saschia Johnson

Photo by Houcine Ncib on Unsplash

This was originally posted on https://jaynepress.medium.com/ Click link to read more poetry by Saschia Johnson