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Many Shapes, Lost Sides


My thoughts
Are falling down my throat --
I didn’t want them to tip over.
My voice
Doesn’t sound the same anymore,
The tide of saliva was just too briny.
My jaws
Forgot how to unhinge their teeth,
But I never liked the gaps anyway.
My hands
Wonder why they are holding too much,
There is no room to let go.
 
Bliss has been kidnapped to the underground.
My chest
Is a slingshot with a taut rubber string --
The thoughts must be weighing it down.
Thank the Cells that it is elastic!
 
My neck
Urges the thoughts to keep absorbing
As it swallows forgotten bits of me:
 
My feet, my chin, my kneecaps …
My knuckles, my ribs, my shoulder blades …
They must be numb in the Underworld.
 
Heavier, and hopefully, brighter
As my skin creases into volcano folds
And earthquake bites --
Yes, I know that sometimes my brain
Can be jaded of blood
And my fibers
May all form a boundary
(They do not know any better) --
 
Yet my thoughts
Will surely shoot up
And fling back most of me.
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CindyUng

Find me where the heart beats faster and the mind runs clearly. If you turn around, you might catch a glimpse of moonlight: Hold it close and you may hear the whispers of my aches and dreams. Speak softly now, you might scare the strength out of me. You'll never know where my thoughts will go next, just let me be the one driving this journey. Someday I'll return to the stars and sleep in the void, a place where I hope to find colors I've never seen before. And when I master the art of painting into the galaxies of pain and recovery, I will discover the truth in me. I will be free, I will be free. Let the constellations tattoo the spaces of my body. ***If you ever want me to check out your poetry, feel free to let me know!***

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