A Broken Anchor

By Julianne Miller

It's the most durable thing I own

With a tough lock

Sometimes I only get as far as

Looking for the right key

Then giving up altogether

Yet, it always finds a way to open

A pin drop

Or an avalanche

Without me trying to pick the lock

The broken sound and the crooked waves

Flow out like poison

In a valley of elegance and roses and expectations

Or the grim dead of night in a sinking ship

There it is again;

Like a haunted song that I know the words to

The Forest At Night

The forest at night is a playground for my mind to play tricks on me

The black abyss above me

Is looking a bit too much like a dilated pupil right now

The mountain peaks look like teeth

And suddenly I’m in a whale’s stomach;

I love when I’m convinced a twig brushing me is actually

A shark trying to bite off my ankle

Or maybe a black hole is engulfing me

But sometimes I invite them in;

Sometimes it's comforting to stare into a sacred oblivion

Its blank beauty fills my malnourished existence

Like I need it to swallow me whole

And wash away vacant, artificial meaning