Tense, blurry sight.
Status? Stagnant water
without the contemplation.
A deep-rooted
spinal itch,
trails like a trickle,
not cool,
not sweet,
up to my neck and down
to my tailbone.
Let me breathe myself
into the night air that drifts
and clings to my nose tip
ears, eyebrows, lips,
chest.
I want to melt
into the sticky pavement
because it sounds cool
and might smell like
woodsmoke,
carried on the rain.
But I am filled with string,
muffled and amassed like
cobwebs and candyfloss.
Tense-eyed, blurry sight and heated cheeks from stagnant
studying, still water but without the contemplation but instead a deep-
rooted spinal itch trailing like a trickle, not cool, not sweet, up to
my neck and down
to my tailbone.
Let me breathe
breathe myself into the night air that drifts so sweetly across, clings ever-so
slightly to my nose tip, ears, dry lips,
tongue, chest. And let me forget all the rest, that mass of muffled string filling
me so unproductively. Yes I know it’s me but how can I help myself when
I want to melt into the sticky pavement because it sounds cool and
might smell like woodsmoke floating on the rain. Bathe me in the white light that’s dulled
by the misted streets, let it seep into my pores and line my lungs so they fill.
I am filled with string, taught, but with too much of it, strung energy
with nowhere to project to.
Written By: Helen Halliwell
Originally from England, Helen is currently studying English Literature in the Bay Area, and hopes to one day move back to the UK to continue studying and pursue teaching. When not reading or writing, she tries to keep a keen eye out for things in people or nature to inspire her poetry, stories, and sketches.
Art Title: Canid IV
Artist: Teresa Beatty
San Francisco based artist, Teresa Beatty, has spent the last few years honing her skills in printmaking and drawing. Her interests span from scientific illustration to art therapy. In pursuit of bettering her craft she’s traveled across the globe. She uses art as a tool for healing, expression and connection.