Friends keep us up.
We remain open eyed
Because they shake us.
Get up, they say.
Get your ass out of bed.
Come play.
Look at this beautiful world.
How can you sleep now?
Why are you wallowing like this?
Pull free from this sticky mire
take my hand
I’ll help you.
My example is your example to follow.
I’m awake.
I have troubles.
You do too.
Let me get you a coffee.
Hold someone’s hand
Feel the comforting soul within it
Know you are not alone.
Life is a losing game.
We cannot dominate.
Hemmed in by death
Battling the inevitable
It helps
To have another living thing beside you
A reminder
That you’re not the only one
Holding fast
To this tenuous state.
Pain is relative.
A two year old cries from a skinned knee,
The worst pain experienced to date.
At ten, he fractures a bone,
And discovers a new benchmark.
At fifteen, his heart is broken.
At twenty, his heart is shattered.
At twenty five, a loved one dies.
The bar gets raised
And raised and raised.
The worst pain a person ever experiences
Is the standard by which all others are measured.
Some people are not afforded
This gentle progression in pain tolerance.
They are thrown to the wolves early
Predated upon
Eaten alive
And barely survive.
If someone is crying
Over a problem smaller than your own:
A failed exam,
An amicable divorce
Remember this might be the worst pain of their life.
Comparison is not compassion.
I have tried to be less
I have tried to be small
Hoping that I could
Not exist at all
I’ve pushed all my valiance toward virtue
But fuck it
Purity
Is an illusion
Perfection ever changes
And God
He’s not coming
I will be pitted, defective, mistaken
I will be whole
Unapologetic
Here I stand
Naked, flawed, beautiful, untouchable
No one can hurt me
Because I know who I am
I was really tired when I wrote these!
I want an egg sandwich.
These things make themselves
If you’ve lost enough sleep
You can watch them
Make themselves
Life is easier when your breakfast is sentient
And ambulatory
As long as its attitude toward being eaten
Is positive.
A positive attitude
Can really make or break
A good breakfast.
Don’t break my breakfast
By giving it existential dread
Don’t let it start enjoying the real world
Or fearing death
Because soon
I must eat it
And I hate having to catch my own breakfast.
Swifter than a deer
So does the yolk in my egg sandwich run.
A second attempt:
Every morning
I must catch my own breakfast
The eggs are runny
The bacon is cooking fast
And these quickbreads won’t get away from me anytime soon.
But they’re going to have to get up earlier than that in the morning!
Sarah D. Silvey 