Azul

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There may be more to this someday, but I think I am pretty happy with just four lines.
Blue is generally something I associate more with happiness than depressions.

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AZULE

Are you blue?
The bluest sky I ever knew, and twice as true
I watch the galaxies go by spinning at your feet
I marvel when the stars bend down to kiss your cheek.
-LM

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The Holding

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This little paragraph has been sitting around for awhile as you can see. I wrote along with the previous post for something that inevitably I didn’t use it in. Also, like the previous piece, it feels as if it could work in poem format. I’m not sure I am ready to do that though. It could certainly be read with the cadence of a poem so I think I shall mark it as both, for now, And reserve the right to do something else with it one day. I did like the idea.
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Found on Pintrest. I think this is called, Final Resting Place by Miro Johannes


I sit, not silent as the grave, for I am the grave. I am cavernous earth waiting to cradle your flesh, bones and finally your dust. I have lessons for your soul. I have messages from your ancestors and your ancestors’ ancestors! I prepare to listen to the weeping, the remembering and then, the forgetting. I wait to sing you into the great unknowing with the silent music that only angels, oaks and stone markers dance to in their perfect stillness. I sit waiting to hold you. Waiting to bear witness. Waiting to absorb your story into all the stories that have come before.
 
– LM 2013

Waiting to Become

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Photo I took in Caspar, California 11-13-2013 

I wrote this piece, initially as prose and it sat around for a bit because I thought I was going to incorporate it into another piece, but ultimately, it didn’t fit. Looking at it now that I am finally posting it, I realized it might work better as a poem. As I wrote it, I was thinking of describing something abstract, not personal, not a relationship. I don’t think I meant to do it, but it definitely holds pieces of a relationship that had me in limbo, one  where the person I was with very good at mimicking being a good listener. They had honesty problems. And perhaps the most painful bit was that they painted a picture of the person they wanted me to be rather than seeing who I was. I ended the relationship around this time, but it kept resurrecting itself. I didn’t truly end for at least another year. Recently, I found out this person, whom I haven’t spoken to in two years, is still making up stories about me. I don’t ever want to feel like this again,

WAITING TO BECOME

You think
That it’s my voice
You’ve been hearing,
But
I am only silence

I am potential

I fill in the cracks with my darkness
Soft as raven’s breath
The deep maw of quiet
Broken and whole

You dream me
Walking and talking
All the while I sit
Invisibly
Perched
On the very tip of your tongue.

I wait
I wait for you
To speak me into being

I wait
For your fear
To ebb
For your love
To flow
Bringing me in
On the tide of your reality.

Then
I will no longer be
Remote as the moon
Or close
As your very next heart beat

I will stand free
I will be more than a whisper
More than shadow
More than white light

I have been
Only what you made of me
You painted me
On your expansive canvas
Too often your art is a lie

It is harder for you
To name my truth
So, I may be waiting
A long, long time.

Meanwhile,
I sit
All silence
While you convince yourself
You have heard
Every word

I wrap myself
In the muddy snows of quiet

And I wait

-LM 2013-2017

Fall Back

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Limbo Samatha Louise Photography

Credit according to Pintrest: Limbo by Samantha Louise Photography

Fall Back

4 AM
Really 5 AM
Time change
Falling backward
Time for a change

I am just now
Putting sheets on my bed
I want to fall in
I want to sleep
But my body isn’t ready
It’s humming
like bees

I feel
needles and blades
running inside my skin
my breath is trapped in a cage
I can’t crack it open
Without the jaws of life

I am a fire waiting
For a wisp
Of oxygen

I was an unwanted child
Told I was chosen
Oh what a cruel lie
So many liars
So many lies
But that was the first

I am a question
Asked over and over
Fighting to be heard
Until it surrenders
Masked by the din
Overwritten by louder stories

I should be dead
I should have been dead
Over and over again
But death didnt want me either
I am in so many ways
Redundant
A miracle
A joke

409 AM
I stopped spreading the blankets
Because I was shaking
Because of the razor blades
Under my skin
I must be smooth
as porcelain
I must be fine from the pain
But I cannot stand
For this moment
And probably not the next

I wanted so little
From this day facing me
But all I see ahead
With 415 approaching
is a small pile of ash and bone
The start of a migraine
A remembrance of sky
A skein of yarn
The color of a child’s disappointment

Over there is the roiling sea
I’m about to sink under
Black and thick as a body bag
I was so close to the shore
Please don’t let me sink
I tried to be a foghorn
But it came out a whisper
So you probably won’t hear me

Its 430 AM
530 really
Time change
Time for a change
Fall back

I’m falling backwards
Needing emergency oxygen
I’m afraid the fire
Is about
to go out

-LM
2017

Samhain Knocks

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Samhain Knocks

Ancestors
Dust and Bone
Who warmed this hearth
And Built this home
Every cell holds their history

Blood of generations
Made a memory palace
Of my heart
Their stories whisper in the dark
The past lives forever
While we remember

Remember
Remember
Remember

LM 2017

*Thanks for reading. If you want to read another poem to put you in the mood for the Autumn weather, check out my poem, October.

Too Many Secrets

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too many secretsWhat are the little mysteries you hold
Between soft velvet sheets

Tucked in tight
So the wind won’t take them away

Spreading them wide
A scattering of bells
Peeling deep in the night

Their bright song
Drifting down
Through the curtain of your dreams

Too many secrets
Let them out
Let them out
-LM 2015