Boredom is such a nuisance.
The hours--rare and silent,
fall like orchid petals
to their private deaths.
The earth consumes what is left
after the insects have their way.
We search for the elusive muse,
something that will move us
and carry us towards enlightenment;
a whisper in the wind,
a prayer spoken through bleeding lips,
an empath interpreting aura.
My heart remembers the heaviness
of writing verse to a poem
or a letter to a loved one;
the pauses that wrap around my thoughts
become the roots of an old tree
and I suffocate beneath the pressure.
As the clock ticks,
pieces of me drop--one by one.
I am shedding myself of the past,
growing new skin in the present.
The future can only be imagined
dangling precariously from a rocky cliff.
Sandy Benitez is the founder and editor of Flutter Press and Poppy Road Review. She has authored a full-length collection of poetry, five chapbooks, and published in two anthologies. Sandy resides in California with her husband and their 2 children.