Definitions
We build lines
those imaginary lines,
or maybe it’s just me
Half the time I feel like we’re
in on this mess together,
and others, I’m pretty sure
I’m the only mind these thoughts occupy
Nothing solid
other than want and hope,
and want and hope,
are nothing more than gluttons for punishment
These are all words
and I know I am full of them
words are not promises
words are not glue
words are not a definition
of anything
Rhythm
I am tired,
perpetually tired
I ache from fatigue
My body vibrates from months
of pent up emotion
I radiate with pure, unequivocal sadness
liquid sadness,
the kind that fills you up so full
your chest beats against the rhythm of the waves
I heave from trying to hold it all in
Steam
I’m fascinated by the unsweetened
and undiluted
uninterested in people’s tastes
like my coffee,
I prefer you in full-strength
and searing hot
able to rouse my weary, idle heart
Alysha DePerna lives in Rochester, NY and is a recent graduate of St. John Fisher College. A writer by day and a reader by night, she is loathe to discuss herself in the third person, but can be persuaded to do so from time to time. She enjoys traveling, reading obscure novels, and correcting people’s grammar.
Delightful repast for those hungry for language that is
ReplyDeleterefreshing.
Open and honest enjoyed reading.
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