Bleeds
Prayers climb upwards
as paper butterflies
glide across the moment.
— Butter flying in the air
and my arteries,
clogged by the wait,
remind me we’re both stuck
somewhere.
This pond is an ocean
for non-believers
impostor syndrome approaching existence
from behind
in this ankle-deep mud
I may drown
in this false green
I may drown
upset beneath that stillness
nervously devouring
die cuts and bleeds that were meant
to define space
and the border
between life and life
so blank in moments
shoulder to shoulder
— this isn’t courage
I’m looking at the window
your steps reaching my ears
we’ll order pizza
and pretend we’re alive.
© Creativivian 2020