Scalding/Freezing (day 176)

I can only live in extremes.


I am the waterfall

and then

I am the memory of bursting lungs and upside-down thoughts.

I am the knives

and then

I am the softest heart you’ve ever held.

I am your dreams and nightmares

from minute to minute.

I am dead weight

and then

I am flying,

so high so high even the clouds can’t be my ceiling

I am the silence

and then

I am the bombs scratching souls

until they have no concept of healing.


I can only touch you in extremes.


I am scalding

and you drink me in like coffee,

you can smell me on the mornings your bones wake up exhausted enough to need it.

I am scalding

and you drink me in like coffee,

not caring for your blistered throat

I can soothe anything but heartbreak

with a beautiful fist like this.


Two steps and I am so cold

I could be a glacier song blaring from a snow-capped radio,

drums that beat like icicles

to mark your bare chest,

now that your hands have known me

you feel like you need scars to be complete.


I told you.

I live in extremes.

I live on the two poles of the world

and nowhere in between.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 1/19/17

Dead weight

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