EVERY STORY STARTS THE SAME BUT ENDS DIFFERENTLY
A breath
that’s where it begins
the small puff of air
that is sucked in
to fill,
to release.We begin grieving the moment we’re born.
Our first hello
is a goodbye to the womb.Our first sounds,
the product of loss,
loss of comfort,
loss of home.Then begins the steady in and out,
oxygen, carbon dioxide,
calories, carbs.Inhale, exhale,
by Erinn Webb 5/20/20
holding on to no thought,
holding on to no feeling,
just flowing and being.
ONE HEART
Why is there only one heart when there are two of most other parts?
And why to the left, not centered like the rest?
A lopsided system leaves one side heavy and the other stressed as it compensates for the weight.
Back and front, side to side, an uneven mass where all blood must pass.
Is it just a problem of design, a flaw, setting us all up to fail, drag our limbs as we crawl?
Rug burned heart, rashed and sore, heaving, shaking, shuttering at the core, to make two of you, you must be torn.
by Erinn Webb 10/12/21
JUST IN
A van
A shooting
An air raidLive from the bridge
Live from the school
Live from the ground7 people
17 people
7 million peopleI’m here in London
I’m here in Parkland
I’m here in AleppoIt looks like
It seems like
It sounds likeIn talking to the locals
From what people are saying
Emerging from the voicesThe terror
The crisis
The warSo far all we can determine
The current estimates are
As of yet we can only guessThe wreckage
The death toll
The destructionThe sound of a single cello
by Erinn Webb 2018
THE BEST THING SOMEONE EVER SAID TO ME
Yes.
by Erinn Webb 4/29/20
No.
Come over.
Go!
You are made of mashed potatoes.
I love you.
Will you marry me?
You are a sponge.
I wanted you to have this.
I made this for you.
You make me proud.
You are one of the reasons I’m alive.
God gave you to me.
You’ll get through this.
They’re called forget-me-nots.
You can do it.
Thank you.
Work smarter not harder.
It looks like you’re holding a baby.
That makes sense.
It’s good to see you.
It feels like we’re going through a storm.
It seems like you’re one foot in and one foot out.
You don’t need to feel ashamed to be naked.
You’re beautiful.
You impressed me.
You want someone to want you.
I’ll give you my uterus.
We’re both halflings.
FROZEN IN TIME
My body,
a sand stone
shaped by time,
carved with lines
from all the expanding,
swaying, staying
in one place,
groans,
while the wind spins around me
and the lights
cast shadows,
like waves,
crashing on the rocks.I wait.
We all wait.There is so little movement
in the valley.Each day’s sun is lost on me,
it searches and returns empty handed.There is never true silence
and because of this,
I cannot rest.The worry has polished me
and left me raw,
worn out,
and fragile.A strong wind could knock me over.
There is dust and ash
from a hundred million explosions,
lives crashing around me,
infecting the sky.I can no longer see
for there is only darkness most days
and the fear of a single breath
that could lead to your last.So we wait.
by Erinn Webb 1/12/21
GOING NOWHERE
It’s those driveway moments,
car radio mid-story,
audio book almost ending,
wind whistling through the cracked door,
half-way there, half-way gone.It’s those dust on the jewelry box moments,
little patterns of fingers on its edge,
fine spray round the name plate,
glistening vaguely in the light.It’s those knowing the dog and its owner moments,
as they round the bend,
same shaggy head, shaggy beard,
grey coat, asphalt slapping shoes,
as they turn around the corner again.It’s those waiting for water to boil moments,
by Erinn Webb 5/16/19
only to discover an hour later that tea won’t make itself,
will it?
Images from Unsplash.com and Pixabay.com