aspirate.

we continue to evolve

unfurling from artificial asylum

reinventing our own image

circling and pushing outward

we are ripples on the surface

of a bottomless pool

saturated
                 adrift

© 12.24.13 heather brager  

once upon a time.

it would still be dark further west

she would remember plum colored hills

benevolent, cold and drunk

bones removed from their hands

small trinkets nestled in deep pockets

the memories of declining charm

winds pushed west to east

peaks reflecting in wet eyes

she lived in a glass amongst the ice

it would resurrect in the morning

mist in their mouths and frost on the foothills

they knew this would happen

© 10.28.13 heather brager   

you are a contradiction.

you are not my spirit

faltering behind

and within my body

your steps are a hesitant swallow

on a bare branch

on the bare ground

you are no longer the tide

you are inside my skull 

a translucent paper cube

you are compression

you are flight

© 10.14.13 heather brager  

post traumatic.

she used to be pure

a looking glass is shattered

remnants of the past 

© 10.7.13 heather brager  

above route 3.

she is subservient

to the voices, but not

their effort to quell a voracious

taste for the truth

panic with its filthy fingers

climbs into her throat

the stale insides of her cage

coerce a plunge, and

she constructs the flight

pain is a living thing

it coddles terror in its blanket

without a heart, or wings

© 9.30.13 heather brager  

...

“I am still so naïve; I know pretty much what I like & dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe?” ― Sylvia Plath

the mindreader.

she barely unraveled the words

recollections of sunlight through linen

she tried to recapture blended features

considered drawing his lips in charcoal

she listened closely to voices on the wind

studied a vibrant blue butterfly under glass

she wanted to decipher an alternate reality

but never could understand the language

© 9.6.13 heather brager