mareterna
The palm of her hand roasts over the boiling coffee. In and out she stretches her fingers, exercising the blood. The cold limits mobility.
Abandoned, the old silo creaked in the wind. I waded through tall grassed to reach it, my camera slung behind my back. Climbing old blocks of concrete I poked my head through the hole. The cylinder spiraled upwards, upwards, exploding at the top letting the sunlight burst through.
Being a Rust Belt baby takes patience. I learned this early on but first articulated it in my mind on our musky old couch. It curled against a window which overlooked an industrial landscape. New Castle, PA. Abandoned smoke stacks our mountains. Things used to be different, there was more money in the valley, but today I wear old clothes, walk to school and anxiously pick at the scab on my arm that's been there for months. A deep sigh shakes me back to reality and I notice the location of the sun in the sky. I rise and leave Time for another day.
The roof leaks a light and the light reminds me of what I've maybe missed by settling in this small town that I've known since I was a babe. I stare at the hole in the night and my eyes burn. Did I miss it? I'm still young and able to love a life that's different... I do hope. I eat my lips in an attempt to make the vision vanish. I do love the light. It gives me hope, but it also reminds me of reality.
I stand on my toes and I'm a little bit higher than I was a second ago. Perhaps a little more distant from some of the pain on earth, perhaps a little more able to handle the "hard," parts. I try to reach into the good things, enjoy small, happy moments in each day, but some days I need to rise on my toes to find a section of sanity.
I found it in a pile, eating dust since the late 90s. If I could turn it on I bet I'd find memories splayed across the screen. A more delightful picture than dust.
I remember summer festivals from my childhood from third person. The summer sun slowly setting, the heat rising from the concrete as the sky slowly turned a deep blue. I see my friends and I walking down our small town street, watching the blinking lights, not ready to close the night out yet.
my apartment smells like burnt sage. take out the bad feelings, negativity, hatred, discouragement. My room smells like the prairie wild, burnt, but in peace with itself.
The thick lake water bubbled like brown champagne after I jumped off the dock. Summer sounds blared in my ears until I hit the water. Silence. Just a simple "bloop bloop" as I drift to the bottom. My feet touch the sand and I propel myself upwards towards the surface, breaking brown champagne bubbles.
I grew up with an entomologist as a back door neighbor, he had a mustache and a bug on his arm wherever he went. In the summertime his wife would boil grasshoppers and bake crushed beetles into brownies. I tried the brownies, but couldn't bring myself to eat a grasshopper whole. His daughter would pop one in her mouth and lick her fingers, I just liked holding them in my hand and talking to them.
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