Taken from


Most of the time I find myself wistful. I tread on precarious grounds, looking ahead at my disastrous future that is potentially delirious, potentially glorious.

The questions I ask are
Strange creatures that fly, crawl and swim in silence. They touch my skin in a way that make me curl deep into myself, pushing away the oxygen, when all I want to do is

Breathe, I say to myself. Open your eyes. I call my name to be sure of who I am, desperately searching for a tangibility that will secure my perpetual fantasies about

Webs of

Countless words, nouns and adjectives and adverbs
Names and places and passions and dreams interwoven
A kind of magic that I yearn to yield
The kind of magic that saves and redeems a person
A person like me.

Breathe. I ask myself,
Can I do it?
Is this the path for me?
Am I good enough?
Is this ever
Going to work out I honestly
Don’t know.

Maybe the bridge that I see vaguely beyond my feverish vision
Will turn out to be a bottomless cliff and blinded, crippled by what I call
Are devilish chains that drag you down, down, down and down
All the way down to destruction.

But how can you tell the difference between an angel and a demon
When you are only human?

Spell the word evil backwards and you get the word live.
Spell the word devil backwards and you get the word lived.
So I guess at
Some point in our everlasting lives we grow
Horns and scales and morbid skins
So we can be guided towards that cliff without that cursed angel nibbling our ears saying
Come back.

Just leave us be.

Tell me, how do you tell the difference between

An angel and a demon?

Maybe an angel doesn’t have wings
Nor perfect beauty and dancing harp strings a smile
Can be crooked and weak and luring and caring and

You will never know what’s real until you

Breathe. When you reach that cliff with a devilish satisfaction an angel is there
To catch you
Or the other way around
Breathe. When you jump and
Your back is penetrated
With a searing pain that you have never felt before so divine and hellsih at the same time that
You close your eyes.

I remember there’s this quote about a master pushing his student off cliffs and the students say
But the master pushes them off nevertheless. Quite preposterous. Quite inhumane.

That’s when they learn to fly. That’s when I learn the impossibilities and uncertainties are just dusts kissing the lid of my eye they are just
A monster in a child’s closet outgrown by time that’s
When I learn to fly
When I learn to breathe
and just


I command the universe.
To fill me with a kingdom
That I shall create when I


By Kim T.


One comment

  1. slpmartin · February 25, 2011

    The repeating word “breathe” was very effective in this…nice pacing to convey a message within the poem.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s