Anxiety is love’s greatest killer.
It makes others feel as you might when a drowning man holds on to you;
you want to save him,
but you know he will strangle you with his panic.
-Anais Nin
Artwork by Daria H
http://society6.com/daria_h/Grace-NPl
Tag: writing
Don’t look at me, I’m hideous
“I need to be alone. I need to ponder my shame and my despair in seclusion; I need the sunshine and the paving stones of the streets without companions, without conversation, face to face with myself, with only the music of my heart for company.”
Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer
Artwork by Julien Ulvoas
Her Grass So Green
her grass ever green
linens crisp
clean
not a strand dares stray
nor garments fray
all that she is
coolly controlled
cleanly contained
by
her
pristine frame
Her Fragments of Infinity
Bodies in a blizzard
of heaven’s white
and
black of night
tangle and turn
in a cradle,
in a casket
where
her fragments of infinity
wallow then wake.
“The Beginning” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork by Hugo Barros
The Life of Lightning
Sometimes
I am a striking rod of Violet-white–
shooting fast
through bombs of thunder and swollen rainclouds
on unsuspecting summer eves.
I am fleeting, but sharp.
an intense shock of brilliance and pain
that others fear
and admire.
But when the night implodes
in a mushroom cloud of fury and fire,
I too
become plain
and pale–
A Nothingspecial
floating, unnoticed,
through the day
like ash.
Grassland Blues
After the death
After the peace
are the gravestones
topped with fuzzy moss and sun-dried tears.
and
the slimy, felt moaning
of infinity–
rolling slowly into every coffin
and every urn.
There is no place but here
for there is no place
at all
“Afterdeath” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork by Hugo Barros
http://society6.com/hugobarros/nature-x_Print
You are in the Past
there was a night last December
when your cherubic fingers
broke off
and slid into my ear
because they couldn’t bare to feel for you
anymore.
Your parts,
like me,
know that you are more
than they are–
grander
and meaner
cleverer
and more masterful
but you
can touch no one
without them
” Your Parts” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork by Jesse Trees
In Time for Forever
I bask in the mist
of forgotten monsoons and slow-crawling moons.
Where my naked back,
strong and silky,
pleads for the brilliance of electric green blasts
to ride above me
in explosions that leave sparks
in my hair.
and scars on my neck
that will never fade away
like time seems to do
“In Time for Forever” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork by Steven Quinn
http://society6.com/terra3/Sleep-sz1_Print
The Show Tell Project 