Three A.M. is when
all the quiet things
become loud —
the drip in the sink,
that clock on the wall,
our hearts, our minds.
mind
Ruminate
Regrets —
those ghosts
of action
that haunt
our thoughts
Unhoard
Once you’ve whittled down to spiritual essentials, the physical decluttering comes naturally.
Release
the wisdom of age
takes root to blossom
in crevices of the brain
emptied by letting go
In pieces
The emotions are part of the wound.
Olvidando
i am growing old —
many leaves of my memory
have yellow’d and fallen —
so that i am beginning to have
many secrets from myself —
Fantastic shores
in bed at night his mind had a ferocious imagination
reality and unreality haunted his turbulent brain
the years ticked, an infinite clock of destiny
searching moonlight for the promise of a future
his reveries of heart were coasting on a fairy’s wing
as the world and universe drifted by fantastic shores
but the sea, work, and women — physical outlets —
were his anchor — something old, hard, and soft
scrambled blackout poetry created from F. Scott Fitzgerald,
Holes & tears
Missing you isn’t just an empty void — it’s what-ifs and questions and endless thoughts and bittersweet memories and runaway feelings and emotions that can’t get a hold on anything physical so just slip and slide around my mind, and hide and re-emerge.
Bedwriting
it’s smart as can be
things that make sense in our dreams
when we wake — insane
Of letting be
It’s not all about healing yourself — it’s just as importantly about letting yourself heal.
Pearl grey
Aging—
grayer shores
calmer deeper waters
Strangely normal
in dreams
time is broken
we ride the shards
or they pierce
our sight —
we see with
different eyes
and know with
deeper mind
CBT
but the science bears out
my catastrophic thinking