The twigs snap and the leaves crackle beneath me This is where I recharge and reboot I don’t always wish to be there but it’s where I end up Beneath the breathing branches and budding leaves -Saschia Johnson Don’t stop here keep reading… Returning
Tag Archives: creative writing
Moraldom
Moraldom Wrap me in white and send me along, away to a place where there’s no rules Rock me steady on a hollow log listen for my beats, while I drift along Gift me your love while in white I dream but what I want is to be alone, I suppose watch as everything escapesContinue reading “Moraldom”
Returning
Sometimes I write to escape myself sometimes I write to find myself other times I write just because I have to no matter what I’m always returning -Saschia Inspired by Freud’s Master Plot by Peter Brooks More poetry? The Third Trimester
The Third Trimester
nestled in snug as a pug who’s unwilling to move and uninterested in rewriting the day Just fruit smoothies with spinach will do I don’t wish to handle much else right now -Saschia puzzle me this…
Step
Step one foot at a time hope for joy accept but don’t settle look both ways but don’t get stuck waiting for a green light
Under Construction
There’s construction on the bridge makes me not want to cross it even though the construction is being done underneath it just slows things down There must be another way -Saschia Where
Where
Days grow Nights shrink as I adjust my legs There is a place here for me Awake not in some dreamy state Grounded not drifting -Saschia
Rainy Days
rain drums the roof of my car inside dry warm satisfied and full of stars and fables full of life no crisis no resolutions just existence -Saschia Artists
Caged from Words
I pace back and forth like a caged animal waiting for a stray hand and an unsuspecting little one Maybe just one time they won’t pay attention and I can slip them between the bars Some eye me down and to show them who’s boss I lick my lips and then theirs and then my ownContinue reading “Caged from Words”
the unwritten character
Grinning she fills her hands with cupcakes and her pockets with candies. There’s no bringing her down. Her head is in the clouds full of happy dreams fed to her from a tv screen. She’s one positive guru with her bad feelings black and charred secretly tucked in the base of her Medulla. Her secretsContinue reading “the unwritten character”
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