maelynslavik

at the beginning of the end 

you went to shake my hand 

i followed it with an embrace 

for i could not face 

what i knew would come 

I’m not sure which is worse, having my hair torn out everyday and markers drawing ‘makeup’ on my face, having a dog chew on my arm and a toddler chew on my leg.

Floating in the sky

Like white fluid still in time

But moves in slow grace

Swirled with a brush by an oil painter

Yet sculpted with regality of wood

A whisper full of substance

An illusion of support

I am out at night because I can’t stand myself. 

People are milling on the street. Nobody looks at me. They all look at each other as they pass, and the lights decorate their faces to be tall and luminous.