You Get Me
a poem about trying to sleep at night
I simply cannot sleep.
The complexities of memories invade my space as the mind tries desperately in the process of turning off. Pushing buttons.
Sending alarms through primal wires connected to trains outside.
Agony. Worry. Death. Bliss. Gratitude. Simple words to describe the ache of doing systems opposite their function.
Heart soft, yet somehow more electric than a shot of lightning, always fueling me higher in awareness and desire. Pushing the boundary between water and fire.
Which element will win in the secretion of this unfolding creation?
Because constant static pulse beats in my brain have me questioning the forlorn teachings of my grandmother.
These screens are not helping us stay well. Slowly but surely they help us die. Closer and closer, now the threat grows. Standing on the Earth’s floor, sensations pouring out the toes.
Ground me Earth, I beg. Help me live longer, I worry. Again. Guide me to take proper care of my vessel.
Images of the gym pop into view. A place I’ve never felt like going until I saw you.
