sometimes i wonder

sometimes i wonder

how many layers of gauze i have to be wrapped in
to feel the way i do.
sluggish, cumbersome, aloof, gooey, fluffy. 
numb. 
sometimes i wonder

if the edge of a blade could slice it all through
and what it would be like to feel things
on bare skin.
sometimes i wonder

what it is that is stuffed inside me 
that refuses to come out 
that stops my breath and holds my tongue
sometimes i wonder

how many times a thought has to reverberate inside my skull 
before it gives up and falls 
into a growing pile of garbage
sometimes i wonder

if this all is a defense
if i am really so weak as to need such a thick layer of gauze
to protect me from the world

avery

all things are many

it all splits apart. 

there are many infinite things. 

numbers, fractals, the digits of pi. 

the digits of two times pi (tau) and the number of people in the world 

the closeness between a graph and its asymptote, the

vastness of the universe

the things that exist outside the universe

ideas that are constantly coming and going

the bounds of human imagination 

money art thoughts stars music light life

goals food culture people personality indigestion 

mirror reflecting mirror reflecting mirror reflecting mirror 

it is a house of mirrors that we live in 

within, within, within, there is so much more. 

everything is many. 

it all splits       apart

the 

world 

unravels. 

mindless

a poem.

At 10 am, i stir in my sleep

The empty-headed scrolling on my phone from the night before catches up to me I have a headache

Today is to be a busy day, so much 

work 

to do 

i get up with effort, concerned only 

with breakfast and teeth brushing, those things that are now 

robotic with routine

the warmth bundles me in a fog

my feet welcome the cold of the kitchen tiles.

it is so late that i vaguely decide i don’t need a 

proper breakfast 

yelling at my grandma that no, I don’t want to eat anything else, thank you very much 

(yelling is the only way to get her to stop, quickly.) 

i bring a banana upstairs.

senses still muffled by sleep, 

i hardly register the sweet mushiness flooding my mouth

a faint acerbity-  

just keep eating 

and eating 

until it’s gone and then 

i walk out of my room and attempt to throw the peel 

into the laundry basket. 

hot and cold

When i was younger i was so warm i drank cold water in the winter

When i was younger i was so warm i drank cold water in the winter.

I drank cold water and i loved the snow and if anyone ever asked me if i’d rather be too hot or too cold i would always say too cold. always. When i played outside i didn’t mind when the snow got under my layers because i didn’t feel the cold until i went inside and it felt so warm When i was little summer was always too hot and i would play in the sprinklers out on the front lawn with my brother I didn’t care about getting wet because i was a swimmer and i would never hate the water. Never. My favorite color was yellow then. If you asked me now i would have to think for a second, even if there’s nothing much to think. The truth is i don’t really have a favorite color now (maybe turquoise?) It’s winter and i find myself sitting in my room for entire afternoons with everything and nothing to do Even when it’s white outside i crave the warmth of my room and force myself into bored stupor. I dislike taking showers I’m no longer a swimmer. I don’t like the cold any more Yet even after a hot shower in a steamy bathroom the cold still finds me. I drink hot water now.

[Insert makeshift title here].

a poem about egocentrism

The greeks thought that

They were the center of the earth, that

the earth was the center of the solar system, that

the solar system revolved around Themselves, that

the universe was greek-centric

geocentric

egocentric

so much so that all who dared propose the opposite were shunned

because it seemed only right that all heavenly bodies

as high as They could see

revolved around themselves;

but that was an illusion-

in fact,

the solar system is heliocentric We

revolve around something trillions of times larger than Ourselves

larger than life. The universe,

it has no center, at least

that’s what our science tells us

and Science is our truth

 

And You, you say you know science but you

live an illusioned disillusion you

pretend to know better you

think you’re not selfish

selfishness is the stepsister, not

you-

but you are wrong.

how can it be possible for anything, anybody else to be the center of Your universe

when You’re the only one that’s been present in all of it, in

Every last moment of your life, when you

think and talk in the first person by default.

so maybe

The solar system is heliocentric

but humanity is not

We are egocentric

geocentric

Greek-centric (that’s a stretch)

and I am no different.

the sun may be a hundred times bigger than my world

but it’s a billion miles away

such an unfathomable difference that it is naught

but a star in the distance.

and beyond that,

there is nothing

will it be enough?

distraught observations of an outsider

she sits at her desk, laptop open, cursor blinking. blinking. blinking. she forgot to close the blinds- the sun is not shining in any more. scattered across the desk are papers. scratch papers, which she used to finish her math homework, and worksheets. a textbook lays open with more pages stuck inside, slanted to the side. there’s a lone chocolate wrapper. a red flashlight. forgotten water colors made in long lost leisure time. a knit only just started, but long abandoned. eraser shavings dust the entire thing. a white cord is connected to her laptop and she has long since ripped out her earbuds in frustration at the muffling effect they have on her thoughts. she has open five windows and one of them has twenty tabs of research filled pages to be read. but that’s not what’s on her mind. a bed only five feet away, but sleep cannot come until she is done with this sentence. her brain is lethargic, and she doesn’t know how much longer she can bs it.

will it be enough?

abstracts, pt III

I strongly encourage you to check out pt doux and the original as well!

click here for part II and part I !

Dull. Superfluous. Amorphous. I flow into a mold and set, emerging stiff misshapen, a new person but still the old one remains.

Higher and higher they rose, above the planes of existence and into the realm of dreams

I careened through the air, reaching for the curling tendrils of vapor that flew past my eyes

He wrapped himself up, tighter and tighter, until he could no longer feel his toes, no longer feel the outside world, could no longer feel

Phantoms accompanied my fears in a lullaby of insanity

A new word. An old one. A plain one, a fancy one.

Was there ever a place where you could just let go of everything but still keep control?

Hard silence melted by a warm smile

Look down, and see the world at your feet

A fly’s life is still a life

I dove off the board, plummeted, and never hit the water

Fast-fast-faster- but it was all over too quickly

The sunflower is the ultimate worshipper.

Ursa Major bounds toward me, Orion close behind

And when there are no roads, you are free

Ocean’s so big it nearly drowns out everything else

golden sunlight spills past the trees, streaking over a cold canvas of snow

The sunset is like fire, searing holes into the dark silhouettes of the trees.

Light pours over the rim of the pitcher

abstracts, pt. doux

these are a continuation of the post called “abstracts.” disclaimer: I wrote these really quickly, basically with the goal of ‘opening my mind.’ so I just went with any idea that popped into my head, like a falling person desperately grabbing at hanging ropes. 

these are a continuation of the post called “abstracts.” disclaimer: I wrote these really quickly, basically with the goal of ‘opening my mind.’ so I just went with any idea that popped into my head, like a falling person desperately grabbing at hanging ropes.   

The weight of the future pushed me down into the ground

He thought and thought but there came no spark

Time ran me over, leaving a heap of memories and thoughts strewn over the road

The wind picked my words up and carried them to faraway shores

As I overcame my fears I slayed monsters and moved mountains

I looked up at the stars and they looked down at me

I looked out the window into the white woods

don’t you find it strange that angiosperms shed their coats for the cold?

I fell into your eyes, overflowing with silence

A time came when the sun no longer rose

My little puddle of light shone bravely against the darkness

Thoughts, strung together like pearls on a silver chain

But what happens when you reach too high? You touch the sun. You burn.
Evolution is sort of like that. The evolution of intelligence. We all have different goals, and they often conflict with each other. Give all people power to do as they please, we get conflict. When intelligence evolves beyond the natural world and into that of the artificial, it gets dangerous. We’re getting too close to the sun.

abstracts

you will be surprised.

I’m quite aware that these have little to no meaning, but some actually work like word candy. 

The bird flew back in time and became a dinosaur

The snow fell quietly and I wondered why the wind whispers to nobody in particular

Trees danced to the whispers of the wind

I fell asleep in a bed of flowers and woke up a butterfly

Why couldn’t I hear what the little bird was telling me?

I reached out to the sun and touched it and I burned

The pencil bled not like a pen but like a person

The rain dripped into a pool of rainbows

The snowflake landed on the tip of my finger and I was still, watching it melt and disappear, and I didn’t feel a thing

Curled my toes in the warm spring air

When my bow touched the strings the sky fell down

Words poured out and the paper soaked it up like a sponge

And when night came they danced to the music of the spheres under twinkling lights and a sliver of the moon