A farm land churned and over cropped Fruits of labor plucked year to year I have no regrets I’ve fed and nurtured new life I’ve cradled vulnerable seedlings not yet ready for the rays of light that brighten and burn Tucked away silent inside warm dark loved A symbolic womb with a pulse pulse pulseContinue reading “Farm Land”
Tag Archives: prose
Bleached
I didn’t think much today Just cleaned with a lotta bleach Maybe I inhaled too much Maybe it cleansed my thoughts right outta me At least the bathrooms clean Just wish I had more to write. -Saschia
We Go On–We All Do
Funny how things work out How people show up And make you proud of who you are Or make you feel less than who you are both people come and go They make impacts They go on with their lives With their red Rose’s or their brass scales And think briefly of you now andContinue reading “We Go On–We All Do”
Ambivalent
I have no side to take Ambivalence is all I’ve ever known Conflicted to the core
Two Baby Girls
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 andContinue reading “Two Baby Girls”
Curiosity
My work is useless without curiosity It’s my current the wind in my sails Without it my words are purely entertainment and lack depth So I read and explore and question life… -Saschia
A Distant Symphony
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. TheContinue reading “A Distant Symphony”
Puddle of Life
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
It’s speaking to me
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 senseContinue reading “It’s speaking to me”
A Writer’s Wish
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
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