She dances while I sleep
And hiccups while I binge watch Netflix
She’s a part of me
One with me
Her sister is my closest friend and family.
She lights up my life with her smile
and makes me feel at home with her presence
Two baby girls to hug and love
to sing and dance with on the kitchen floor
I’m so proud
I’m so proud
-Saschia
I give pieces of me
Raw and unfiltered
I give every night my last thoughts
My dreams nightmares and wishes
And I worry that I’ll be misunderstood
-Saschia
My reality is a dream
I sit in it everyday
I wake up to it and fall asleep to it
I ran from it
and now I grasp it as tight as I can
I don’t want to let it go
I don’t want to be anywhere else
Here with my loves
Among their blooms
Among their thorns
Is where I wish to be
-Saschia
There’s this tiny space inside me. It has a tiny door with a button handle. A button you’d sew on a shirt. It was a fancy gold one. Round and shiny. I could hear music playing from the other side so I got on all fours and placed my ear right up against it. The music didn’t grow louder it stayed as distant but I could see flickers of light dancing just below the door. Then the smell of cookies and gasoline and cupcakes and charcoal intertwined in my nostrils. It was conflicting but curious. There was only one way to solve this. I had to turn the gold button knob and open the door to that tiny place inside me.
Life leaked out my finger tips
It was a sloppy puddle of mush
leaving only a carcass of skin slabbed on bone
Like a chicken on a cheerful walk to the slaughterhouse
emptied
mindless
and tired
-Saschia
Going from letter to letter
Eyes opened one minute
Closed the next.
What’s real and why are sugar plums
So amazed by my androids buttons
Full of conflict pulled tight
from the holes in my ears
I do but I don’t
I would
But should I
I don’t know why humans do these things
Must we know
If I don’t should I make it up?
Should I choose a side
This is when my values tap me on the nose
And the white bunny rushes me along
Mid sleep checklist incomplete
Dreaming of writing this
While skating and collecting snowflakes in my pocket
I’m with my old boss looking for the next word
It’s underneath the ice and as long as we keep moving
they’ll appear
Slowly we place each word one after the other
What we build here makes complete sense
Door hinges break without salt so we sprinkle liberally
And we have to crack the window so my mom can hear her alarm
It’s in the next house along with my mom
The moons out it’s big and the night sky makes me weak
So I sit on the porch watching it glisten hoping that in some way
it’s speaking to me.
I bite my lip
with hope of a kiss
That may never arrive
I believe in it
Like a white Christmas
Or three bowls of porridge
It’s fleeting these days
I haven’t been able to catch hold
Numb to it all
My world slipt away
Was it mine
This foreign body
of water deserted
and dripping of new substance
Maybe divined maybe cursed
Cure me of my ailments
Feed me your wine but allow me
a foot on the ground
A toe?
A finger?
-Saschia
