Amanda Baker Writes

All my thoughts are poetry….

I am busy:

With a cranberry tea / or maybe a chai / sip slowly / sugar / warmth / honey / steam / fuzzy socks / a blanket / sunshine through a curtained window / sunburst of light / cries / three / part / breath / full belly screams
On a walk / through the woods / seasonal leaves / a few months / perhaps snow may blanket these trails / the breeze / will fade out the car sounds / a solo trip / a background soundtrack / / girl in red / boygenuis / true blue / fell in love with october
Coloring outside of the lines / bubble letters / purple hues / tye-dye / on a blank sheet of 8 by 11 / signed by / sincerely me
With piles unfolded / chandelier high / half written poems / distractible mind /
In my own daydream / sleeping in / extra long shower / cancel plans / rings to voicemail / non response to emails / non-existent according to google
Allowing the shitty parts of myself to be known / and know I will never transcend or outgrow my shadows / they are not to be exiled / or cured / they are to be here / acknowledged / art of allowing / they soften and are held / i adore you
In the completion / a new chapter / if I never love another / this is more than enough
And so somehow I start to pray / to the wind / the water / the earth / the fire / the ether / into space / trillions upon trillions of stars / cells in my body / watch in my reflection
In the uselessness / feel / experience / value / creativity / is more useful / so below / so above
I am busy /
being
I am busy /
slowing
I am busy /
In my own hug.

I returned to you in a meditation
I am a magnet for depression
An abyss of infinite
To scream into
And find solace

You returned to me in a dream
I am lucidity for hopeless pain
A heatwave of humidity
To sweat it out
And find relief

But then I am abundance
A parade of sparkle
To dance to no music
Shoeless
With tied laces
To pull a knot
And speak only
Real faces
To cradle
This raspy voice
So that the
Attraction tells me
It’s not about choice
It’s all about melancholy
It’s all about the beauty
Of the wilting.
A hollow in holy
They come to me
Or I find them
To hone.
Cathartic
To own.
Our fuel.
To atone
T R U T H.

Slightly filled with mixed emotions / stomach ache and loud sounds / a space between / inner conflict / there is a circus in my mind / I have acrobatic flips and tricks I did not know I could do / an audience that sometimes cheers and sometimes boos / lime green neon lights / on cheek tears / they blend in camouflage / desire for more ticket sales / a bystander / a watcher / a con artist / a prisoner / do they attend the circus / do we need a miscellaneous ad in newspapers / hang up fliers on bulletin boards / at a loss for words / in Christmas cards / happy New Year / come fill my mind with glitter / barbie pink confetti / falls out of pinatas / into brain circuit wires that electrify black ashes / walk the plank / balance on a trapeze / swing into buried dead gardens / leftover seats / depleted / weary / an abandoned stage / forgotten lines / unrehearsed nightmares / do I restore this circus / do I go back for a final call / are there judges / or am I the judgment / I saw your writing on the wall / i wanted to touch it / reply / hear your words / a different life / someone that treats us well / there is abuse in every circus / sabatoge in every mind / heavy feet like elephants / we never forget / we don’t leave the labyrinth / though maybe overlap / take a token to walk mine / caress a child / foster a pet / feed the lost / listen

May we still listen while drowning / may we hold hands while treading / may we lock lips while sinking / may we stare directly while hanging / complain / from a rope / they do it in the circus, don’t you know?

Despite the danger, people still do it.

Despite the danger, we all still watch.