Fragments of parts in progress

Ink, watercolor, drawing paper, w/c primed board - 2011

Darkness is not emptiness

Trust in the stars to light your way

this is not how i want to feel

excitement shifting into anxiety

slipping over the peak of thrill

let the heat of enthusiasm stay

warming the clay, soft and malleable

don't let possibility lead to fear

your potential is not a tipping cup

it will not spill you out, empty

one fall cannot bleed you dry

you course through your veins

the good the bad, saturated through

a complete emulsion of both

retain the joy and allow for loss

but let the anxiety dissipate

let your energy stay pure, identified

you are all of it, cracked but not broken

grieving but not empty

uncertain but not lost

your blackness is not void,

it is the infinite backdrop to the stars

Gnawing pain

The other side of the wall

fingers throbbing raw

let this feeling filter through

befriend the unknown

More than a glass of rosé

An unexpected rosé

Pink cup of implications

I drink you with caution

and dreams of abandon

A wild, reckless abandon

Innocence drowns in your

cough syrup dilution

Break the frame, open the doors

Poppies on your lab coat

bleeding through the pure white

Blanc, rouge, merging into pink

A mottled messiness

of hot, cold, hard and soft

A reminder of summer

Of everything once warm

Even as I shiver

Possibility rimmed

I want to taste your trick

crack the coldness open

I sing of strawberry wine

Moments cradled closely

in arms sad and loving

Summoned outside my shelter

I drink your liberty

into my soul released

A poem about terminating

Where the End Meets the Beginning

How can this be the moment to exhale,
to move on?

This is just the beginning,
the warm up,
a pause on the starting block.

The game is on,
the rules have been set,
but the obstacle course has no map to follow.

This is not just me, this is you too.

You came to me for something,
something not yet yours.

I can't give it to you, so please don't ask,
don't hold it against me,
don't give up.

It's not mine anymore than it's yours, not yet.

How can I leave you now?

This is just the start of something more,
something with direction,
with meaning deeper than the top wave.

How can I leave now?

When I am still understanding all that I don't yet know.

What have I done?
What could you have gleaned from our time together?
What do I leave you with?
What do I take with me?

The track ahead is long, and I fear the hurdles and turns,
but you do have shoes, and I have mine,
and we must run, separately,
but synced by the knowledge that our tracks once crossed,
and for a moment we ran together.

rebeginning

i have wiped this clean and now I am beginning fresh, but with little idea of where it is going to go or what it is intended to say.

- lia