I’ve softened. I lost almost everything.
I live in another world—I shouldn’t force an earth landing.
I should return to the swinging sky. I miss my dad. I see him all the time. In the ones that love, in the ones that hurt. I’m heaving, I’m hurting.
Right now I’m sad, lonely, fueled off my anger
and sweet vengeance that lifts me up—aflame.
My pain is subtle.
Clear as day in the micro movements.
Forgotten on someone’s windowsill.
If I’m still, my eyes swell.
This is hard.
I’m pernicious. My harm is subtle.
A silhouette just silent and still.
You don’t feel it till you do.
My heart has extra beats now.
My chest is a wicked storm, numb to the groundswell,
toes curled, jaw locked.
I must take a new shape to survive this.
I’ll have a completely new life come snow fall.
I won’t be “myself” anymore.
I want to yell and scream and say hurtful destructive things.
~[ July 25′ journal fragments ]~
Freegrandmaa 