all that I have to offer

[kalinswords]

Struggling, suffocating

Literally everything

Anything

It’s all too much

There isn’t a way out

Not one that’s acceptable 

Not one that’s healthy

Not one that’s safe

Drowning in responsibility 

Scents, questions, depositions

Always in the background 

When will I just get

A true break 

[kalinswords]

unfinished

Those cold hands of morning are choking me

Strangling me with thick strands of heavy fog

The car doors close in, and the office is no solace

[kalinswords]

I see my eyes in yours, staring right back

Feel your heartbeat curled up in bed

Such a delicate and hopeful soul

It was only recently that I was right there

That same deer caught in headlights

Never sure if the car will hit or spare me

Not even sure I want to be spared

I’m both inside and outside the bubble

A bitter taste on the back of my tongue

While living in a world full of sweets

Wanting to share everything I’m unable

Material things, knowledge, experience

We all must forge our own place here

But just say the word and I’d give it all

Just for you to have it better 

[kalinswords]

offers of help

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do”

But I can’t make my vocal chords move

I couldn’t ask even if I knew what might help

“I’ll be right over here for you”

On the other side of a wall, a curtain, a door

I can’t open, can’t even break through the walls of my own mind

“Don’t beat yourself up”

I’d certainly choose not to if it felt like an option

But my blood is screaming, my skin is melting

Soon there won’t be anything left

[kalinswords]

Character?

           “Daddy, what are you doing?” The small girl asked her father as he sat at his desk, typing, one Saturday morning.

           “I’m working on a new story,” he replied, “but I haven’t gotten very far yet. Right now I’m still trying to create some good characters.”

           “How do you create a character?”

           “Here,” the man closed his laptop and turned to look at his daughter, “I’ll show you. We can make one together.”

           “Okay!” The girl’s eyes widened and a grin spread across her face, “why don’t we make an old man?”

           “Sounds like a plan,” the man chuckled, “now how does he look? Is he big and round with rosy cheeks, or maybe very tall with bony fingers? Perhaps somewhere in between - it’s all up to you.”

           “Tall, definitely!” She said, chewing her lip as she pondered, “with dark hair that’s like the clouds when it’s stormy.”

           Her father laughed and replied, “let’s give him a crooked nose, too. And a bit of gray scruff on his chin, under cracked lips, his face showing the wear of time. What about the rest of his face? His eyes?”

           “Hmm…” the child mused, “they should be gray too, but not in a mean way. Just old! And especially wrinkly since he smiles so much. He’s very nice.”

           “Is he, now?” a smile was forming on the man’s face, “What’s he wearing, then?”

           “A suit!” her voice was loud, excited, “he always looks nice, except you can see a little dirt under his fingernails and on his shoes. Maybe he’s a gardener?”

           “I think so too,” he nodded, “so there you go, we’ve got ourselves a character!”

           “We do,” the girl nodded, but her eyebrows furrowed, “but just one. Won’t he be lonely all by himself?”

           “Hey!” The man wiggled his fingers; threatening tickling, “stop stealing my thoughts, you thief!”

           She giggled, “no, that was mine! But what are we gonna do to fix it?”

           “Simple. We create another character.”

           The smile came back to her face at the thought of playing this story game some more, “okay! Can it be a girl this time?”

           “Sure,” the man nodded, “how about a girl with blonde hair that’s in a braid, and her nose is a little crooked just like his.”

           His daughter’s eyes were closed, “I want her to be skinny too, but short. Sometimes when she sits in chairs her feet don’t touch the floor and she can swing them around.”

           “Is she fancy, too?”

           “No,” her eyes squeezed a little tighter, “she’s wearing an old shirt that has a dog on it because it’s her favorite and sneakers because they feel good. She doesn’t care if she’s fancy!”

           “We’ll give her gray eyes too, like his, but lighter and with some blue in them.”

           The girl nodded vigorously, “and when she’s really happy, she gets this big goofy smile that makes everyone else smile too.”

           “Okay,” he closed his eyes, “she sounds lovely, doesn’t she?”

           “Uh huh! So what comes next?”

           “Well,” he said, “we should probably give them something to say, shouldn’t we?”

           “Like…?”

           “What do you think?”

           The girl paused for a moment, then smiled and replied, “how do you create a character?”

[kalinswords]

I don’t want to eat

or sleep or do work

I don’t want to do anything

that may sound a bit like

quiescence, or condescension

perhaps that’s the right word

but this is something else entirely

it’s not being lazy

or seeking attention

it’s a horrible thing that just

never seems to go away

it just won’t

go away

[kalinswords]

after a while

the words start to jumble

my mind gets mixed up

in a tangle of terms

I can’t tell what’s what

and I can’t tell who’s who

or the reason that anything is

[kalinswords]

time to move on

everything moves and

everything stays

nothing really goes

that far away

the leaf of the tree

as some people say

doesn’t fall far

but still it does fall

regardless, just as

no one of us

can simply

stay still

[kalinswords]

is there anything I can do for you?

yes, a million things, but I must say no thank you

I’ll be fine, whether or not that’s true

I just can’t say what it is that I want

it goes against everything we know

хочу попросить тебя обнять

I can in Russian, easy, tell you whatever I want

but only because you can’t understand

if you did, well, I’d surely be torn apart

[kalinswords]

Writer’s Block

I never really write anymore

and I don’t read much either

books, at least

we read solely on screens

in this “Western” country

it seems, even though

I love the feel

of the books, the smell

of the pages, that crinkle

you only hear when turning a page

I used to sit at the bookstore

for hours, reading

sometimes napping

in those comfy chairs they place

too close to the others

so you have to glance

awkwardly

at the woman next to you

reading and sipping her coffee

I often became inspired

and wrote, I wrote a lot

things were simpler then

but I could not have known

and now I never write anymore

maybe because I never

leave my house, but for

school and work and dog

sometimes I wonder

how I can care for another

when I can’t even

let myself

live

[kalinswords]

I’m here and here and

here some more

Kalin, the leech

stuck to your arm

you can’t shake me off

can’t get me to leave

I just like it too much

the taste of your flesh

I doubt you would try

to tell me to go

but I wonder why

though I already know

it’s not what you want

it couldn’t be

you’ll follow the rules

and put up with me

but that’s not the reason

that I really need

[kalinswords]

there’s no stopping waterfalls

they just come crashing down

once you step inside

no chance that you won’t drown

yet still sometimes it’s worth it

to feel something again

even if it hurts like hell

I don’t want to pretend

beyond the rush of water

I hear the fables sing

drawn to the softness

but don’t know what to bring

can I even make it through?

I can’t find a reason

but it isn’t fair to you

I won’t be so indecent

I know that cave is back there

it’s just the strangest thing

can others get past?

I want the crystal spring

walls of water are still walls

still mock me like the clock

spring and fall have come and gone

I’m still forever blocked

it’s likely you might wonder

what’s going on with me

I wish I could say

but water’s pounding me

hair is soaked and clothes are wet

but shouldn’t ask for help

can’t take your extra towel

though with cold, I’ve never dealt

[kalinswords]

I want to call you by your name

the real one, not like we do

I want to hold your face

I want to hear that promise

the one I know you’ll never make

I just wish for you to touch me

I want to hear you say my name

the real one

in that way

[kalinswords]

features put together

in a most delightful way

for someone else to hold

too delicate for me

too far from my grasp

undeserving of my touch

which always seems to break

but not this time, because

you cannot break

what never was

[kalinswords]

the one that I want

beauty, grace, and such kindness

she is nothing else

[kalinswords]

another melancholy Sunday

stuck in this bubble

with the pencils and pens

I can’t reach past the surface

can’t ask you to reach in

my hand shoots up

I shoot it down

but still I want

your eyes again

[kalinswords]

longing for

the curves of that sea

those slight flecks of light

that radiation outside the spectrum

the rare crystal whose ends point together

the twinkling chimes as the wind flows through

that endless knowledge caught in a sparkling web

those silky expanses of color, far from my touch

the tapping of rain on those wooden floors

the button lost inside infinite time

all of which seem

to elude me