Aftermath of A God’s World

You’re warm like summer and silky as cream

Slipping past my fingertips

As I raise you above your planet

And spill you back to whence you came

You are the sand that caresses my palms

And I feel every grain

I value every creature, every child that is mine

From the empty-eyed doe to the bow legged goat

Lovingly, I whisper life into their lungs and light into their minds

Bite me all you like, I shall never harm you

But bring destruction upon yourselves, that is when I cannot save you

You are hot like the summer and white as sour milk

The pearly bones of your existence slip past my fingertips

As you are risen above your planet

And crushed inside my palm

And spilled back to whence you came


This is a re-post from my Instagram. I felt that all poetry should eventually find its way back home to here, no matter where they are first birthed.

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I’m Growing Up

What’s it like to grow up?

Do you notice it like the way you notice the bags under your eyes when you first wake up? Is it like a killer migraine after a night of being drugged up? Fucked up?

Or is it like a germinating seed, just sown 1/4 ” deep, blooming on the night of a midsummer’s eve? 

Is it beautiful? Does it feel good? Does the world make more sense now? 

Does it hurt? Did it always hurt or did it hurt when you finally decided to grow up? 

Do you choose if you grow up or not? 

Can you stop it from happening? Should you stop it from happening?

I think it’s like a beauty trend. The next hot seller, fresh out the market, the most popular thing to wear during summer. And we obsess like there’s no tomorrow, grabbing greedily at something we don’t even understand. We think we do, but we don’t. 

No one can comprehend the responsibility of growing up. No one can take the responsibility of compensating all the petty white lies, heart breaks and heart aches, migraines, and empty promises. The cold stares, being unawares, hollow kisses, and negligence. No gift of money or proud compelling or acceptance can heal what has been severed and mangled. 

And you ask me, ‘”What should I do?”‘

I cannot give you an answer to your question, unfortunately. Because what you asked is something a “grown up” should already know what to do.

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