Shades of Gray

It’s not black or white, but

it’s certainly not shades of

gray.

Because these operate on one dimension

which is not to say that there is

no depth to the colors, but that

words like ‘murky’ are inadequate

because murky has no shape or texture–

texture, temperature: properties of

sentience.

Depth is not an empty space in your emotion/being

An artist, singer, dancer, poet

would love to fall

fall as if it were effortless, an

unimpeded descent

into

you.

But I know you

r more shallow depths

at least

and I felt the crumbs of static

mouse-bite-sized

nuboso

cotton wisp-er, clinging to my

hand

damp, dissipating

gray

deep

difficult to see

dark, tepid*.

As I fall,

my light reveals

3 inches from my body

my next encounter*

with sentience.

My next fall.

But 3 inches is not enough to

think, plan, prepare

so I sink and

I fall and

I feel all over again.

Here

I have such a beautiful life, here.

Everything is good, here.

I am happy, here, take my hand.

All I’ve ever wanted was to move inside you

A sign that what I am is not who I thought I was because I am broken on the inside.

But that doesn’t matter anymore

because I am happy, here.

The sense of melancholy that taints everything I do,

It does not exist, here.

Hear the way my heart beats?

It screams out my name! 

Lies! Lies! at the tops of lungs. Sweet.

 

[i am ashamed of myself]

i am scared to share my thoughts

my thoughts are s c a t t e r e d

They do not exist in transit.

Most seem to have thoughts in chains

Long, unbroken streams of consciousness

Every link logical and fluid

A liquid beauty that ties down, captures, restrains.

my thoughts feel like ELECTRONS

pop! into my frontal lobe

[i am a starting thought]

pop! into my temporal memories

[i am a second thought]

pop! out of my mouth

[i am the unrelated response]

There is no chain.

They appear at will, with no in between steps.

pop!

pop!

A raven is like a writing desk!

pop!

pop!

I am scared to say what I think!

[you make me feel ashamed of myself]

[no meaning]

I want to write poetry.
I want to write a song so beautiful it makes the world break;
I want to tear the fabric that holds us together to pieces so I
Can rebuild it again
And my sound will be the cornerstone.
My voice will echo through an empty chamber and it will be the only thing you hear,
It will enter you and seize your heart, it will squeeze you
And expand inside of you until it fills you up;
You heart will beat faster and adrenaline will pulse
And your body will loosen in the middle and tighten on the edges
You will become a human, just like me
And together we will rise up
And live out the true meaning of our creed
______________________________________[silence]______________

I walk in the night, what a beautiful sight
Lord Byron- please show me the streets I walk?
And I
Let my cup of plenty runneth over
Till it leaves me wondering just what I’ve done to deserve sober, and I

Feel spiritual things but nothing satisfies my dreams
And so I raise my glass to toast to everlasting life
But immortality comes from being more than free and I shift into a bird to take flight

But nothing seems to me so beautiful to see as the falcon crying out it’s fatal call
And as I twist and turn down I miss one fatal calling sound and the world around me Crumbles and begins to fall.

[i’m sorry.]