Mom

Sometimes I dream that my mom is in the water, beaten against sugary brown shores and I play life guard.
 other nights she is the water, and I am dragged out to sea by her absence
The funny thing about losing a parent at the precipice of adulthood is that everyone expects you to gain from their passing
Gain maturity
Gain words
Gain anything
But I lose my sleep at night, wondering what the last thought that fluttered through her mind  could have been
If a "help me" flittered across her tongue that wasn't quite strong enough to vocalize
I think of myself miles away from shore, grappling for any trace of a life vest,
Something that lets me know she is resting
At peace with her own fate
Even if I am not

Who I have time to be

The passing  of seconds is no stranger to me,
I am only who I have time to be
The tick of the clock, plucking at my strings,
I have come to realize that
Life is what you do to maintain it,
You are a breather, sleeper, and eater, not a traveller, academic, or poet.
You are a human in the whole of it parts,
 an organism spending its time regulating body temperature so it can contemplate the feel of anothers skin.
Breathing so it can inhale the fresh cut grass, and the sweat of the morning dew
Dining in resteraunts with others so the conversation makes the act less lonely, and more meaningful
Interests are what come after you are done being yourself
You pick up the pen to forget that you can only dine with one now, instead of two
You go far away to pretend like the home you left won't be there waiting, empty.
You learn, so that each time someone asks if you're okay you can rationalize the way you are behaving, but that just makes it easier to make excuses
You run, but the clock follows close behind you,
A reminder that the more time you spend racing
The less time you have to be you.

Shadow

Reflections pressed on parched lips,
 inhaling myself

The succubus shadow entices me

 with spider limbs, reaching for me

entrapped in vines that stretch across my throat,

 the scream that does not escape

I allow it to take me,

To pull me under dark water
surrounding me with it
to quench my thirst 

I let fluid fill my lungs, and close my eyes
I find the peace in letting go
But
My next breath is light,
And I am shocked by the air that greets me,
I open my eyes and the flowers surround me
The shadow eliminated by the suns illumination
I let it be, and close my eyes again