Illumination
He was light,
A tingle in my hand
In the warm dark of morning,
Illuminating every organ
Individually,
Every ache receding
Into his touch,
Leaving a new warmth
Under my skin.
*
Are you able to visit people
When you sleep? I asked.
The cemetery was quiet around us.
NOTE: Anyone who remembers me as an artist from a few years back remembers me as a egotistical but talented poet, holding the reigns of an empire, remixing poetry like music, creating and abandoning writing communities, and generally striving to take over and prove that I was better than everyone else.
I've come a long way, thankfully. I think at this point that my work speaks for itself. While I do still operate from the ruins of my "empire," I do so out of respect for my partners in writing, those with whom I've connected and whom have connected with me via writing.
I look back on the comments I once took for granted. People claiming I inspired them, changed their lives, made them cry. I only hope that I can live up to that reputation again, without the attitude, never taking it for granted, always communicating and showing grace and staying level with my fellow writers, and never ever dragging out my pedistal just to prove that I can.
I love all of you. I feel connected to my world. I intend to give back this time.
A tingle in my hand
In the warm dark of morning,
Illuminating every organ
Individually,
Every ache receding
Into his touch,
Leaving a new warmth
Under my skin.
*
Are you able to visit people
When you sleep? I asked.
The cemetery was quiet around us.
NOTE: Anyone who remembers me as an artist from a few years back remembers me as a egotistical but talented poet, holding the reigns of an empire, remixing poetry like music, creating and abandoning writing communities, and generally striving to take over and prove that I was better than everyone else.
I've come a long way, thankfully. I think at this point that my work speaks for itself. While I do still operate from the ruins of my "empire," I do so out of respect for my partners in writing, those with whom I've connected and whom have connected with me via writing.
I look back on the comments I once took for granted. People claiming I inspired them, changed their lives, made them cry. I only hope that I can live up to that reputation again, without the attitude, never taking it for granted, always communicating and showing grace and staying level with my fellow writers, and never ever dragging out my pedistal just to prove that I can.
I love all of you. I feel connected to my world. I intend to give back this time.