December 2023

Poetry by August M. Johnson

INTIMACY DANCES WITH ME
 
My aspirations are to feel someone’s presence, like the intimacy that autumn leaves hold onto for the whispers of an evening breeze, so they can continue to embrace under the moon.
 
The pleading desires to become comfortable with vulnerability, like how a mesmerizing butterfly allows her intricate wings to be sheltered by a layered cocoon.
 
I wait for the day I can become one with the trees, so when I disappear, you’ll still grasp onto the simplicity of a presence that no longer resonates with me.
 
What I truly crave is to be as valuable to someone as the nightlights that dance in the sky. Whenever you look at me, I want to be remembered, like the seasons that continuously flee.
 
I hope that when you choose to open your eyes, you truly allow yourself to see.
 

**********************************************

PAINT ME YOUR BEAUTIFUL FACE
 
Paint me a picture with the most beautiful faces so that I can remember you, like my favorite book with all the bent pages. 
 
I want to observe every fragile part of your unstable foundation, for when you’re loved, it should always come with no limitations.
 
No two snowflakes are one and the same, but when one is shown to be perfect, the others become ashamed.
 
You’ve been taught that your differences should be hidden away, but the possibilities are endless when you let them stay.
 
When the sky is filled with a thousand lights, it colors the darkness to be one with the night.
 
When you bear the marks that have been given to you, please don’t feel the need to build up someone new.
 
Sometimes the most extraordinary things can come from that of a bird with broken wings.
 
So, paint me a picture of all that you hate so that I may turn every piece of doubt into your beautiful face. 

*******************************************

IDENTIFICATION REMAINS IN LINE
 
Maturity is something I can merely taste on the numbness of my own tongue, but don’t be fooled, my dear, for I have tasted that salt when I was far too young.
 
The desirable apathy to have the answers to my own identity is a devastating fate that will leave my imagination with colorful intensity.
 
I’ve covered the mirrors on these luminescent walls because I fear that if I were to look, I’d see nothing at all.
 
When my reflection is cast onto the waters that are filled with the tears of a stranger, I’ve unwillingly grown to fit into someone else’s containers.
 
How can you grow up to be someone that you don’t even recognize? I thought my glasses were supposed to help me see with my own eyes.
 
I’ve become a prisoner hidden in the walls of societies, deceiving lies. The only problem is that I’ve lost myself in a very convincing disguise.
 
So when I walk along a pathway and I leave you behind, I’ll send my condolences to the figment of an identity that was never supposed to be mine.

************************************************

Cool Crystal Waters

by Autumn Lusk
December 7, 2023

Glittering waves taunt the girl from the beach with the smooth and soft sound of the ocean hitting the shore and bringing a sense of comfort. All she could smell was the cool ocean air. It wasn’t enough though, the water called to her, drawing her in closer. Before she knew it, the girl felt the warm sand beneath her, as she was staring out at the horizon. It was a gorgeous expanse of greens, blues, and greys. Combined, they created a color she didn’t quite have a name for, but it was so easy to get lost within it, and she knew she couldn’t get enough. The water lapped at her feet, and she pushed forward. It danced around her ankles, but she kept moving. It hugged at her midsection, and she could see her skirt flowing beneath the waves as her t-shirt clung onto her for dear life. A small tide caused the water to creep up ever so slightly. The girl decided she could go out a little further to tread water, making sure it would be safe. She stuck her face beneath the surface and saw nothing but that color; it was inviting and even a little maddening. With that she took the plunge, not bothering to hold her breath. The waves had reassured her that it would all be fine.

The girl then realized she wasn’t strong enough to swim. She hadn’t bothered to look at the bigger picture, and a storm has rolled in. She screamed, but the salt stung her eyes and nose. She was ready to accept her fate, being tossed around feeling as though she’d been torn apart. Suddenly a breeze hit her, and she crashed onto the beach. The ocean had spit her right out, as if it were rejecting something rotten it had eaten. Was she not good enough for it? She was soaked to the bone as she got up to leave. She knew when she wasn’t wanted, but it would still leave her heartbroken. Her chest hurt and she kicked at the sand, only for the water to smooth right over the divet her shoe had made. In the end, all she’d have left of her and the ocean, was a story, and socks that felt like they’d never dry. Until she decided to return again. Who knew it would hurt so much to breathe in the cool crystal waters?