Tuesday, May 5, 2015

{ un read } - yogi. writer. photographer. austin, tx

Where is the curious spark that flickered across your face?
There was wonder and desire.
Go ahead, crack my spine, break me in.
Lick your finger and turn every page.
Find the stories that you don't yet know, learn the secret.
In these pages, stories, humor, fantasy, and magic.
Read and uncover, ask and unlock.
A creative body of work in the palm of your hands.
Feel free, draw in my margins, leave your notes.
Dust and patina carry no glamour, blow off my cover and don't stop at the foreword.

I laid on the floor with my tears hot, stinging my eyes before they rolled to exit.
My chest heaving as I held in sobs, not now, not here.
I remembered the sky.
Last night I looked up, she was so blue I could hear the stars weep.
I've given up on myself somehow, I can't remember the light but I know it's there.
The light is blue like the sky and amber like my soul.
It feels like exile and I crave home.
I push and I push, at least now it's only myself, I have new sympathy for those I crushed.
My shoulders shake, I wish someone would hold them down.
Heart in my throat, a headache I can't escape, screams I can't unleash.
I let the rain fall straight on my head, soak my clothes, and wet my skin.
There was a time I ran through the storm and braved lightening to sprint.

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