Existence

"Existence precedes essence"

-Jean-Paul Sartre

Pupa

A sanctuary

of isolation

spun out of

wistful threads

Outside:

the wind

and the world

spin their circles

Inwardly:

spherical asylum

of silence

Desperate fingers

strenously eroding

The walls of this prison

Muted mouth interlaced

with its walls

On this stalk of life

We all hang separately,

isolated and encapsulated

unitedly scratching the walls

Shared dreams

upon resting corneas:

exhuberantly

fluttering butterflies;

dreams of what

we will become

I am 'woman'

Send your subtractive labels

to where no sun shines

For I am 'woman'

I am more than:

bloodshed, birthed child, tidy house

I am.

I am.

I AM!

Watch this eye watch the world

watch this mouth

with its wit;

this hand with a pen;

this foot on the earth

watch me fill my soul

with glorious experience

histogenesis:

'woman' to 'sister'- you: 'brother'

We are.

We are.

We ARE!

Life's path

Existence is:

parallel possibilities

Choice

or guidance

is the question

If in mind choosing

but by holy force

being pushed:

Does it make a difference?

The path will

be but one:

Long,

dusty,

dry

Cloud of sand

stirred up

by boundless walking,

blurring vision

and instinct

Such is life,

such is life,

such is life

So push me

or I'll choose-

whatever it may be

My face:

a dot on the horizon

Black Hole Me

Black Hole Me

There is an

empty space

within us

Untouched;

unexplored

A gut-wrenching

fear of falling

as we reach there:

'The Black Hole

of the mind'

Around its center:

memories in orbit

silently drawn

to the void

A seventh birthday;

a teenaged kiss;

blood-covered children

brought to our arms

All life lived:

Silently awaiting

its slaughter

Reformation

I was searching within:

a mirrored sphere

All even,

Clinically perfect

Tensions in the glass,

Shattered surface

Imperfect self;

Broken me

Interconnected,

Displaced shards:

Aspects of identity

Now in orderly line

Epiphany:

An empty space

Blank canvas,

Primordial me