paper lights and glass jars
“If I could store lightnings in jars, I’d sell them to sick fireflies to light their way. Only they have nothing to pay for it with but life.” — Will Advise
we are jars, we’re glass, we shiver,
we could break.
and, its making me want to shatter.
its making me want to gather broken glass
and find peace with every piece I press
into powder in my palms.
we are paper, we are light, we are paper
holding light, like paper lights. fragile,
beautiful. We have fire wood for bones,
we are made of light and fire, we can’t
help but explode over and over and over
jars and papers, we are alchemists,
filling, feeling and pouring mixed potions
of emotions, soaking energies and creating
light in time. we play church organs like
magicians, aligning the universe, learning to love,
learning to give what we didnt know
we shiver, we sink, we hurt, we stay away,
we find our way back to freedom,
to expression, to love, to hurt and we feel, over
and over and over again.
we hate jars, glass feels like confinement
a sort of prison. but,
we love jars, glass feels like protection because
otherwise, we are just too exposed.
we hate paper, after-all we can write on skies,
we can write on sand, paper seems kinda, weak.
we love paper, it smells like home,
its smells like laughter and hugs and love and
patience. it smells like home.
we are going to go away, to light,
to dim, to break, to mend, to be empty,
to overflow, to give, to take- to experience.
together we are home, so one day,
I will see you there.