There are a bunch of bridges that you can walk under
And a few years back I decided
That the concrete slab holding up
This one particular bridge would be the bridge that I would write a poem on,
Line by line.
So over the years,
Every time I would go by this bridge I’d add a line to the poem
And then date that line.
Today, after spending an entire afternoon
Reading Bukowksi and Rumi
While listening to Tigers Jaw and Bon Iver,
I visited that bridge to see years worth of work painted over.
I wasn’t as sad as I thought I would be.
Not everything is permanent,
Not everything is constant.
I have been living
Out of a suitcase for the past two months
From the comfort of my own bedroom. I could easily use the closet
But I only spend a quarter of the year in the house I grew up in.
I wonder if all houseflies are homeless.
Often, I feel like a stranger in my sheets. They don’t smell like me.
The suburban streets I used to wander as a kid seemed so unfamiliar,
Like I was a traveler discovering all the nooks and crannies of my cul-de-sac.
Just as I crossed by my neighbor’s crooked mailbox
I noticed a deer up ahead.
We locked eyes
For a moment.
I took a step towards it and it bounded off in the direction of the forest.
I realized that I wasn’t all that different from that deer,
I will go back to that bridge and
I will start a new poem."
"My Life Is Changing But My Mile Time Isn’t Fast Enough To Keep Up With It" - Nishat Ahmed
Sometimes I fall into these random existential crises(via sickwithsyllables)
Know your voice.
Recognize you when you
first come ‘round the corner.
Sense your scent when I come
into a room you’ve just left.
Know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot.
Become familiar with the way
you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.
I want to know the joy
of how you whisper
Rumi (via feellng)
Maya Angelou (via observando)
have u ever accidentally befriended someone who is very very irritating