Day.3

We sat so long
the creased sweat on
our shirts dried
clean and new again.

8/16/2015
Riley Welch

XXXXX

I laughed too much.
So much.
Maybe it's not enough.

Is it a cackle,
or a giggle?

Why is a cackle evil?
Or crude?

Because it's from a witch,
or spirit?

I would argue,
they should laugh too.

Someone once let me know
all this laughter
was too much.

But to me,
it felt like substance.

Something to fill
the hollow of a lack of execution.

Something to validate
and give my emotions
some meaning.

Tears streaming
laughter spouting
like joy
expressed aloud.

8/17/2015
Riley Welch

Softened

I sliced through words
like white bread.

Soft.

There was a tear.

I consumed so many
words.
In one day.
In one sitting.

I have to take a breath,
and expel them.

At a thousand words a minute.

I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry.

This is how it is when you fill anything up.
It runs and runs and runs,
my teeth clatter and
reconnect.

And I cannot take in another syllable.
I will burst.

8/16/2015
Riley Welch

Did the Weatherman Tell You

Heat crept in
and I sloughed off blankets,
like layers of dead skin
that I no longer needed.

Cold Sweat Clinging.

Less sweet
than that of spring,
and on the back of your neck,
less satisfying.

A cold front was said to be sweeping through.
Highs only in
the 90's.

I laughed
defeated
and hot
and pointed to a million places
on the map.
All a million miles
from the scorching center
of the globe.

8/16/2015
Riley Welch

Cliff Hangers

What used to be fresh
rotted
out from under me.
And I fell
16 stories
to what felt like my
end?

I don't think death is the right word.
And fresh couldn't
hold me
up any
longer.

Soft
and squishy
like so many ideas
I had once
that were flushed
elegantly
down a drain

with a garbage disposal.

One whir -
and goodbye.

8/16/2015
Riley Welch

Silence

Hey little whisper,
so sweet
so smooth.

Trickles down glass
slicker than water
delightful
and fickle
so sweet
and so little.

Riley Welch
8/15/2015

3rd Floor Up

The days started
getting slower
and faster
simultaneously.

And I lost interest,
But at the same time
they raced and I couldn't see them pass.

And the women behind a big desk let me talk,
and I told the truth
But I also lied.

And didn't mention
that maybe I just thought
this was the new constant.

Because the truth felt too much like
something that could make her
absolute.

But she handed me
a folded up paper,
over and on itself.

With the words
[   ]
laced across the top.

And it felt fake
and I felt fake.

And it felt oversensitive and
overzealous
and meant
nothing.

...

But heaviness hung over my face,
framing it,
like those bangs, I tried to grow out,
when I tried to grow up.

Riley Welch
8/12/2015

12 + 2

I woke myself up from a dream where
waves were crashing on a shore
and the waves pushed and pulled
back in a rhythm I grew
accustomed to.

I worked with them
instead of against
and ran
back and forth
in sync.

The pitter pat of my feet
wet and hard on
cold sand

and it all moved to the beat.

8/12/2015
Riley Welch

Two Spaces

How many endless
emptying's of my brain can I pull?

Pulling brisk and long
Stopping at the edge of my mind.

Like a landfill.
Like gold.
Just to me.

8/8/2015
Riley Welch

16

And I walked alone into the desert.
Mostly because I like how each step
Seemed to muffle the roaring car
Engines
Indefinitely.
And the dirt went on for miles
and miles,
Rolling red.
And even a few
Scattered
Clouds.
Totally silent.
Except for each grain of sand.
Sliding whenever boot hit the Earth.

8/6/2015
Riley Welch