Day 143 – Ducklings

My ducklings have gone away today I
will not see them again they have
to grow, I have to rest that’s
how it works, that’s how it ends
but I have given
so much
of myself
now I’m not sure
how much is left
except now I know
how much room
there really is now I can
measure the space
they left and
it is bigger than I was
at the start

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Day 142 – The World Loves A Beautiful Arsonist

I was born buried deep in the snow
I was born gripped tightly in chains
I learned to build raging fires
but the sting of the iron remains

The world loves a beautiful arsonist
The world loves a singer of flames
It celebrates those who can set it ablaze but
It notices nothing of chains

Day 140 – Magic

I have put so much magic
in places it shouldn’t have been

I have sores all over
from picking apart the times

If I’m raw it’s because I never healed
If I tell the truth it’s not the whole thing
I ate too much magic I couldn’t afford
and now I keep secrets from you

But oh, sometimes I believe
we live in a place
where magic is as magic does-
if I ripped open all those scabs
would they pour out glitter,
if I went back to that place
would you meet me there?

Of course, of course
you wait there still
where magic should never have been
but each time I go back I see
your shadow
and the blisters rise again.

Day 139 – Grey Hours

Grey hours love me
like dead flowers
untragic reminders
of function and purpose

They are my estate,
my inevitable sickness
and cure;
they are children I bear

They sit and watch,
attached to ceilings and walls,
they whisper
or sometimes they sing
indecipherable words I
wish I could play;
try to teach me things
I wish I could learn

All I’ve learned
is that these things
do happen

There’s nothing
but to wait

Grey hours love me
like dead flowers
forgotten ’til the
next bouquet

Day 138 – Give Up

if you must give up
i must let you give up

if i’ve made you tired
then i must let you rest

there is nothing in your eyes
to keep you here

there is nothing i would do
to make you stay

you don’t remember
and i can’t forget

but i can’t bring it back to you
i cannot watch you hurt

if you must give up
then i must give up too

Day 137 – Silence

there is a cosmos in our silence;

to sit quiet with you is better
than speaking for hours
with anyone else

the world, pressing for content,
turning thought to data to excess,
a machine of produced community,
forgets to earn,
forgets how to guess

and we, in silence, auction off our places in the race,
buy back our costly solitude
to break in half and share

we are worth more than
what comes out of our mouths