Not Evil Like Glitter But Warm Like the Sun

I never feel free like the winds through a willow

Or wrecked, in pieces, in a wretched ruin

I think the other poets are on drugs

I would love if my heartbreak carried me across time

Time just happens without movement nor stillness

And even the word "heartbreak" is too abstract

I am not planted like a tree

I am a couch-dweller

There is no metaphor here

If I figured out what drugs they are taking

I would speak and flecks of glitter would weaponize

Swirl, dance, combine to form a sword

Or peel away in a cloud under the door

Traveling by wind, fiercely

Infecting every open orifice with a word virus

Or a word cure, which is not sharp and evil like glitter

But warm like the sun and pours from my fingertips

Every word is a touch with the power to improve

Or, sober, I might find another way to write in simile

Meditate until I am equalized

I am the same as a cricket

And a cat, and a fleck of dust

Caught in the light

I am the light, and then, one with all

Stick my fingers into sockets,

Slide my heels into rattlesnake dens

Wade deeper and deeper into the ocean

Charged and swollen and raw and one

Just like / such as / as in

One who understands what that's like

A person who emotes like things

And exists

As feeling