My feelings

Images flashing, smashing holes into my intellect. Electric screw driver driving and displacing my mind which is racing, and all for the sake of _________ reason.
Laugh, smile, frown,
puckered lips,
I’ve scrolled through it all. Grabbed the picture from the frame in which it is captured. Stuffed it through my eyes right into my brain hole; like a sock into my mouth.
But it doesn’t fit __________ it is removed.
And I haven’t yet mastered moving that damn mountain over there who watched me with his furrowed snow capped brow, mocking my absence of faith. Yanking my chain and uncorking my testament of doubt.

I am shouting now.
______________ hole in one!

I scratch my ear, I scratch the other one. I rub and rub into my eyes. Shapeless as a cloud, waiting for a visionary to yell and point at me, “She looks like a tiger eating a blow fish!” And I would most likely stop to consider their analysis before returning to my shapeless form.
I’m rubbing our eyes now, I’m scratching our ears.
Were drilling holes into our minds.


I woke up again today. Imagine that. Me waking up.
Imagine waking. Imagine up.
Imagine up waking.
Imagine up today, again waking.
Again, imagine today, waking up. ____________ Does that bother you?


Fifteen-hundred nine thousand and twenty seven tea candles were lit today in a forest. The trees didn’t catch fire, they simply burned with the light dancing from branch to branch. The fire announced that it wasn’t here to hurt anyone, and the trees simply swayed in response. The fire danced and the trees swayed while thirty three-thousand nine hundred and ninety nine insects were gathered in groups around each candle. The crickets led the other bugs in song while the walking sticks provided a seat for everyone. All bugs brought their unique shells, compound eyes, thoraxes, and pairs of legs to their candle’s circle. The fire connected them.
It was enough.
It had always been enough.
I’m so human I can’t comprehend this enough.


I’m not interested in reacting for the sake of reaction. I’m losing touch with the inner turmoil that has overthrown the power of rationale inside of me. There is not to me time.
There is not to me ___________ care.
I’m over, under, and string all the way through my timeline. I’d prefer to hide from the separation between producing Oxygen or Carbon Dioxide. I’d rather be a photon, dashing excitement to all parties involved.

Please, drain me of it. Twist and ring my soul out. Fear is clogging my spiritual arteries. I come home to it. I sit in silence with it. I lay in bed with it. I feel crippled by it because I am so trusting of it.
More importantly, I am hurting others with it.

Please ______________ take the feeling.

Published by Anna Buck

"everything was beautiful and nothing hurt."

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