I lived underwater where every sound is muffled and every image blurred. Where mouths shut tight for fear of drowning.

I lived underground, encircled by cold breath and the smell of rot. Where whispers of warm light pulled hope from a grey breast.

I lived under a rock, beckoned by a blazing sun. Where warmth slipped into the stone and curled itself ‘round, unbidden.

I lived up north, where quiet hate crushed the days and blustering loneliness swallowed the nights. Where it hushed a beating heart and whipped the door shut.

I lived la vida loca, without speaking the language. Where love was a lyric and dancing was a skeleton key.

I lived downstairs and death found me twice. Where pills were the proof and Obsession’s stinking hands finished Abraham’s work.

I lived upstairs with the promise of time in an austere Heaven. Where pretty little liars chased down wild horses and sold them for glue.

I lived up to expectations and everyone came to the show. Where foreign languages fell from tongues forked by the factory up the hill.

I lived on a prayer filled with longing, and it floated away. Where it went there were only empty cups and its hot, expectant breath returned home.

I lived in a van down by the river with swift currents and black water. Where sudsy froth crept up the banks, washing nothing.

I lived on the edge and looked out over the breach, marble-eyed. Where the fire had raged and ravaged now lay only beggar’s bones.

I lived large and swelled to grand proportions – slick with the sweat of gluttony and bloated with lust. Where the ground hid a hideous thing that bled into the water and killed all that drank.

I lived off the land with an open mouth. Where the soil was food, the moon cool comfort, and the mellifluent wind sang the pain away.

I lived off the grid as a calf must be weaned from a mother with milk fever. Where silence filled the cracks with silver and gold.

I lived.

I live out loud, in ripeness, and dropped technicolor fruits lush with heavy beats. Where perfectly alone meets blissfully joined and no more guns guard the borderlands. Where water and earth and wind and fire have birthed me, tortured me, slaughtered and saved me.

I live because i lived.

3 thoughts on “Living

  1. This post is so beautiful……
    please consider publishing a tome of excerpts if this is your work. You have a natural way with words that I’ve always admired…..

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Maybe. I think i’m a pretty shitty writer, but i have found my voice, which gives me hope for the future. Thank you for your kind words, and know that i save them for when dark times come.


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