Sunshine

Sunshine, fair weather friend
and ally when tensions
are high. We both know that I
only have to step outside
and breathe, where you
are there to comfort me.







Small and necesary. I always felt that I have to keep a balance in my writing, like if I let myself write too many negative things then I'll just explode. Which is a perfectly reasonable theory, in my opinion.
Anyways.
I love the sun.

Bridge

These tendons stretch to no avail-
my muscles were not made this long,
to push against the bonds
of distance and fail,
falter, try again
and fail. The aching in my very bones
to grow, like a dried sponge
put in water- to expand and fill
every empty nook and cranny until
there is no part of the world
that I cannot be; saying,
“There there, I’m here. Please,
have some tea and cookies and my love.”
But
I was born human, not a bridge-
these are the things
we must build and cross,
and I am still at a loss.






Maybe flowed better all in one piece, but oh well.

Just found this as a draft, to be honest. Kinda forgot it was there. This is back from October! Better late than never.

Comfort

"Comfort, comfort for my
people," He said and I
sank into it like the best kind
of hug plus my favorite hot drink
plus a steamy scented bath plus a
soft bed at the end of a hard day.
"Thank You, thank You,
thank You," if I said it too much
it still wouldn't be enough because
my soul is filled with the wonder of
His love.





It's what goes through my head at the end of every day.

Also, "Comfort" has already been used but this one is a little bit better but I can't think of a different word for the other one so whatever.

Shitty

"I can't be like her," she managed to choke
past the sobs stuck in her throat.
"I'm never going to be
that skinny, with perfect skin,
and I'm never going to fit in
size five jeans. I don't understand
why they'd do this to me! I don't
understand..." the rest of her words
faded into the pillow, my hand
rubbing small circles on her shoulder,
longing to fold her into my arms and
then proceed to blow things up.







The first thing I could think of to say was, "Shitty people don't need reasons to do shitty things. They're just mean all over the place."
I'm obviously not very good at comforting people...
(pardon my French, but I really can't think of any synonyms for "shitty" at the moment.)

Room

I walk into the room and
we (the room and I) sigh together.
What a lovely fit!
Shelves and crannies and nooks and corners shift
themselves into an order
that best resembles me. I sink into a chair
made just for backs like mine (all mine!)
and all of us together stretch,
creak, and settle one last time.
All of us are confortable, and
all the world is fine.








I forget everything except that the chair was so comfy and there was lots of natural light.