Luna Schwartz Poet Verse

Vanishing Completely

Yesterday hurt
Like a knife
Carving out my brain
Until all the inner art–
All of my agency–
Is sliced into festering slop.

Today hurt.
I punched a wall
That would not even bother
To weep.

Tomorrow hurts.
Just thinking about it.
About waking up.

This can't be happening.
This can't be real.

I'm actually entranced in love
With a hypnotically perfect woman
And I’m not all alone.

We’re actually counting endless fireflies in the sky
Who glow like orange shades of afternoon hues.
I'm actually flying with them.
I can feel them.
I'm actually alive.

And as I levitate,
I feel the sunbeams shimmer
Warming my face.
I see butterflies flutter
And land on flowers of rainbow shades.
I'm like a child, frolicking mid-air
Saying hello to little robins
And jays that tweet soft songs back.

And tomorrow isn’t happening.

I'm actually in a golden spire
Packed full with a sublime orchestra
Gracefully petting their strings
With glowing fingertips
Just for me

And I can’t even want anymore
Because I am satisfied,
Laying gently in a field
Relaxed like a meditator.

And I'm not here.
And I'm not scared.
And this isn’t happening.

I'm so sick of crying
I want to jump like a grasshopper
When his grass blades tremble
Like a candle flame in the wind.

I'm actually cradled in my mother's arms
And many familiar hands
Are caressing me to sleep.
Life is magic all again
And I shine brighter than a diamond.

And there's no storm.
And there's no wind.
None of all of anything
Is ever happening.

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