stranded.

I can recall the color of the sky
on nearly every morning

it swallowed me whole
on random flights, in all directions

it pressed me firmly to the earth
as I climbed each mountain

it pushed me to the mailbox
and forced me back through doors

it spit me out on the high plains
and left me there, wandering


© 7.17.12 heather brager

crazy mountains.

she cut her teeth
on the fossilized bones
of her heritage
sucking for the last
drops of moisture
on a barren plain
touching the sky

the crow
called them
blue bird mountains
she trudged
the expanse before
the towering teeth
sanity wandering
among the evergreens

she died alone
wild and lost
a pale warrior
on the sharp stones
far beneath
the taunting cliffs

© 7.9.12 heather brager

7.2.12

memories fail us
images in the mirror
filtered by our lies

© 7.2.12 heather brager

june.

if I speak of the
algorithms on the wall

symbols untranslated
by my tired eyes

preaching a chronicle
I can’t understand

the patterns are
in powder pink


© 6.29.12 heather brager

6.25.12

dust in the corners
forced across an empty floor
she should be the wind

© 6.25.12 heather brager

pallor.

the whites of her eyes
vacant, falling feminine
it seeps through the mirror
onto the streaked wall

apart, a woman
the form of an idea you
recall with derision
a version of

a former self

there is a dark
blue iris
a cut on her
right thumb
falling hair, teeth, breasts
a soft
turned stomach


© 6.11.12 heather brager

shame.

we are buried far beneath
the rigid corpses of our past

in the distance we recite
the lyric that binds us

we bond with the pain
that drives us mad

we are left again
and chasing behind

we still hold our cards
behind our backs


© 6.11.12 heather brager