Wondering.
Tumbling…
It seemed appropriate to start a tumblr.
I am, after all, tumbling.
It started off slow,
I woke up one morning,
heard the whistle of birds chirping,
pinching the brisk morning air,
and then I tumbled.
I tumbled out of bed.
Eventually I gained momentum,
I was nudged along by a warm, soft smile,
melting like sweet honey butter in a warm kitchen,
and then I tumbled.
I tumbled into love.
Soon enough, I lost control of my tumbling.
A rush of the post, torn envelopes and old stamps,
documents filled with words I wrote but never even read.
Before I knew it, I had tumbled into college.
You’d think a girl would know when to cool it with the tumbling…
but I’m not a normal girl, and self control is not my strong suit…
so I just kept on tumbling.
After a certain amount of time spent tumbling,
I realized that it wasn’t me tumbling anymore,
it was everything else.
My family had tumbled apart,
a rip in a worn jacket that you keep trying to patch until you realize,
there’s no more jacket and you’re naked in the cold.
My heart had tumbled away,
That moment where the elevator floats,
levitating in the air, all the buttons pushed in and lit up,
and then one light goes off and the whole thing crashes down.
And as soon as I realized my world was tumbling,
I started to tumble again too.
Clinging to driftwood in the middle of the ocean,
nothing but blue every direction you look,
surrounding you and promising to drown you,
and you don’t know where to go,
because the waves just tumble you up and down and around and around,
so you just keep on tumbling;
You know eventually a wave will tumble you back to shore,
A wave that’s warm and frothy and soft,
and so you cling to the driftwood,
smooth splinters gathering in your palms,
but they don’t hurt…
You know eventually a wave will tumble you back to shore.
Oyster Psalm
The world is my oyster I shall not want,
it maketh me dive deep in the blue green sea.
It leadeth me through the swaying forests of slippery seaweed,
and holdeth me close, caressing me, frigid water warm on my skin;
it spineth me around until there is no longer an up, nor is there a down, but only water,
and seaweed,
and oysters.
The world is my oyster I shall not want,
it maketh me pry and pry,
maketh my muscles ache,
it maketh my hands bleed and the swirling red water twist up through the salty sea.
The world is my oyster I shall not want,
it maketh me cry out, letting the air escape from my lungs, the water filling me, consuming me, becoming me, drowning me,
it leadeth me towards dark ocean caves,
towards predator and prey,
it holdeth me in its grasp, consuming my mind, my dreams, my heart;
my disoriented, suffocating soul;
My existence.
The world is my oyster, I shall not want,
but for the shining pearl within.
