October

September was over in a flash.
I opened my mouth and it all fell out.
Pouring.
Jaw closed again.
How slow does October creep?
Possibly like the way
you stop counting at ten
and start over.
How do you continue?
You know what comes next.

A pause at ten.
October.
A breath.

9/29/2016
Riley Welch

3 Bubbly, Sleepy, Wild 3-Line Thoughts

9:27 AM
Wow.
All purchased.
Not cheap, so worth it.

12:27 PM
Too late now,
I'm out,
no assignments or anything.

6:10 PM
I'm ready.
I've learned.
This is all over.

9/27/2016
Riley Welch

Silence *is right*

Excitement keeps keeping me up,
I've never felt my feet
cycling like this before.
Pump. pump. pump.
Swear you'll wait up?
Or at least, wait up when I run ahead.
You.
Wow.
Spring is so fresh
again,
this year.

9/27/2016
Riley Welch

3 Hours

Eyes hanging
bags sit low
your entire face slides off
sinking quick.
Pants loose
dress loose
sweater loose.
If not for sheer force,
I would surely melt
into a soft pureed liquid
on the ground.

9/27/2016
Riley Welch

Et

Vibrant blue,
needles
went to hear light buzzing
who knows how things fair.
I still think about things falling apart.
All the time.
Really, all the time.

9/25/2016
Riley Welch

9/24

I felt depression sinking in again
a cold white sheet
comfortable.
Like how your bed feels so good.
But think of how much better
getting up and living your life feels.
Like I'm in a battle
against what my body wants to do and what I know I need to do to survive.
Live.
Goosebumps don't feel good anymore.
UP, not down, up.

9/25/2016
Riley Welch

BBPLF

A car turned right into the lane one over from me.

I jumped.
Careful not to swerve my car into them.
In a quick moment,
I realized it was the same car as mine.
Light blue,
sleek.
I pictured us hitting
and completely overlapping,
becoming one car.

Clean edges, sliding into each other

denser, stronger, deeper in color, speed.
Wheels hitting the ground with purpose.

And then the moment passed
and the car turned without hitting me
and sped.
It felt like a missed opportunity.

9/25/2016
Riley Welch

OJS (Oversized Jean Shorts)

How to make a mark in different mediums. 

I want to capture in perfect still, 

hard hitting

or etching.

God, there is beauty in nothing. 

I'm becoming softer. 

But can't tell if it 

will help or hurt me. 

Still life, 

or freeze frame.

Oh, 

wow. 

Left off and out.

Deep breathes. 

9/22/2016

Riley Welch

Hardrive?

Keeping it up.
Back up.
No loss.
Things are fresh
let it ferment.
Let all thing ferment.
Spill over
and out.
Or both.
Sometimes more is that.
Just more.

9/17/2016
Riley Welch

Start-Up

I went to write out a metaphor
where I proclaim
when you speak
the clouds glisten
and everything speaks to me
all at once.
As though,
you deliver life of all things.
but every time I try,
not only does it feel,
deep in my bones, like a lie,
but it sounds bad,
ingenuine.

Instead I feel it all,
I hear,
I digest.
That tiny bug in my stomach
twists and turns
and gratitude for my
life bubbles like gritty sand.

9/15/2016
Riley Welch

And I Felt a Great Loss

While in line at Wendy's
I watched a woman
checking fried goods in the oil.

And flipping the fries and nuggets
about in this basket,
and when she did
a piece of chicken
flipped out of the basket
and into the boiling oil.

I was immediatly fixated
and curious
as to the destiny of the chicken.
Would it be retrieved
or burn up in all that oil?

9/8/2016
Riley Welch

The Golden Hour

In trying to capture a moment I become redundant.
So here
picture this:
grey sky. No white sky.
All clouds, no storms.
Warm. But not sunny,
an odd contradiction I've
come to find comfortable.
Trees the greenest green.
Well, that was lazy. Trees a variety of
greens. Rich and forest-y and
light and almost yellow.
Oh, it was all so beautiful.
The air settled on my shoulders
in a relaxing comfort. I had not
felt for week.s
Orange rooftops welcomed the shade,
almost bleached by the suns persistence.
Chatter and footsteps were drowned
out by headphones on low.
To add to the mood.
Everything was so lovely.

And then the bus came.

Day 5

When I'm busy,
without being overworked,
my body doesn't make poetry.
Because it's too busy with
a long a curling to-do list,
it makes sure words don't fit anymore,
not as they used to.
I think it's a writing slump.
do I leave off completely?
Or write through it...
When your sick, you take a break.
but I guess there's a chance
being unable to write
and being sick
are two very different things.

8/30/2016
Riley Welch

8/26

A small rip began

at the top of a well-loved nest. 

Things mostly fall apart

because very few things last forever.

Ringing. Constant. 

8/26/2016

Riley Welch