Andi Leigh Writes

I see their faces— Ancestors with glaring eyes. I’m questionable.

All I know is a terrible mood. A terrible fire Rampaging in my core And it pains me. But it won’t cease— It proceeds to grow, to eat, As any little thing gets grilled In the flames; Scorching my ribcage and Troubling my sleeplessness. Plain terrible sleep Due to plain terrible mood. But the week is almost over And I hope there are pieces left. I need to dig for them.

I don’t care to wash the windowpanes. The glass can remain smudged And I wouldn’t mind. I don’t care to see through To the other side. There’s no need to see what’s out there While I’m decompressing within. Some days, Looking out is fine. But I take issue when I check And oddly find Fingerprints not on the inside But on the outside of the glass. At least the curtains are drawn.

While out and about one day I saw a little boy no older than two. He waddled, low to the ground, Seemingly lost. The discovery to walk must have Been a recent milestone. His baby blanket was hooked firmly In his little hand while his other thumb Was fastened in his mouth. His eyes, so big, seemed empty except For the thought of his mother. At least that’s what I believe a two-year-old Would be thinking about. Then his dear mother appeared In a flash from the crowd. All eyes watching. Her face was lightning As her little boy wandered and fell behind. Her thundering palm met the back of his head And tears welled up in his darling eyes. She reached down and yanked him forward. His feet departed the floor. “Keep up with me!” “Hurry up! You’re slow!” She scolded him, snarling, While she dragged him behind her. Then she released his small arm As if he could fend for himself. His pace could not keep up With his mother’s strides. But she yelled like it was no fault But his own. I wish she woul...

There’s mystery in patience. I have yet to understand Why she makes my chest burn. And meeting purpose at the end Is worth every ticking second. But no matter the reward She steps in sync with pain.

I’m simply out of energy And my smile drains the last bit. But the smile is worth what is returned; An expression glimmering And a heart full.

I have this problem Where I think I need to be somebody. A stream of hiccups that pop, Making me think I need to live up To expectations I never wanted. Should I be a prismatic vase With colors pulled every which way? Or can I just accept my limited hues And be comfortable as I am? That is so wrong in their eyes. Push, push, push. More! Gain more! But I am happy with my vase Of simple hues that I fill for myself. Isn’t that enough?

A pit of static in the gut And he quickly dries his tears. Chest collapsing in a rut But no one wants to hear. No one wants to listen To his hollow sighs. They don’t care what has driven Him to be this traumatized. A heart better off buried, Better to mask the ache. Better to be seen unwearied, No one wants to see heartbreak. Well that isn’t in the slightest How it should be. Emotional brightness, Needs to greatly be seen.

Straight at the bottom The well walls crack around me. I’ll dry up with it.

Horse of death rides up With black embellished carriage. I’m not yet ready.

I wait for the cold. Everyone says to watch out. But the sun still shines.

I want to be on a beach With the full moon so big in the sky That it looks like it’ll crash into us. And I want to feel the moonlit air Rush past the trees, bringing petals From far off, Right to where I would sit On the white sands. And I would watch the waves reach up, Trying to join that full moon; one that’s Too powerful for the clouds to hide. With bonfire smell roasting in The flowing night, The crackling sound of fire and waves Match the twinkling stars. That is where I want to be.

Interruptions Rupturing Through all surroundings. I am tired Of the pauses. I would like to get moving. But the pauses, The many tasks, Snowball at my feet. So I must sift through The interruptions And find my footing. Acknowledge These pauses And hit all Checkpoints. Then I may move on.

I’m ready for the blanket Of soothing nightfall. Ready for the sun to sleep; He tires as much as I do. Needing closure for my eyes, I long to fade away. Not fade away forever, No— But only for a moment. And when I reawaken I’ll feel the waiting sun Smiling. Then we can go together About our day.

She frolics in the forest, Frolics across the forest floor, Eyes bulging from their sockets, Mocking her smile that was no more. With the bruise around her neck And a knife wound in her side, She frolicked for years in the forest All this passing time. All this time routinely wasted, Facing her frolicking forever, Not realizing, not a clue, That she was tricked by someone clever. Someone that she trusted dearly, Without a thought to bear in mind, But the one who caused her ending Stole her money, robbed her blind.

The trees in autumn are Lit matches. The leaves, fired like terracotta, Coat the mountains with Warmth from the chill. The forest floor Houses salamanders in Rotted wood set to feed The current fires That line the rocky peaks. With smells that we yearn To capture But a candle can’t compare. It’s something we can Look forward to; Those fiery leaves.

An endless stream of windows Peer in to forest deep. And when I look through panes There’s plenty stories snug asleep. The frames are nicely fastened To keep strangers to their own. But through the glass I see Snippets of prose unbeknown.

I tend to let time get away. Visited by the morning And only as seconds pass, The morning is an old friend Gone home. The night, a surprise, Brings itself around, signaling Time pressing on from Broken window blinds. And while being left alone, there is A general loneliness but It is well met with new ideas To keep company.

I was driving in a downpour the other night. Cold rain, in cold temperatures, on the verge Of becoming snow. The headlights of the oncoming cars Were screaming. Like fireflies Getting too close to me, Flirting too close with my strained eyes. Damn those LEDs! Astigmatism sets a true challenge; Encouraging lights to shoot off beams With halos emitting from the source. And those rays of light bounce. Those light rays bounce off the rain, Off of pretty shiny cars, Off of the wet ground that reflects The darkness of night. And I feel like I’m driving on a lake With the northern lights below The car tires. The road seems to disappear And the car, and myself, Cautiously float off onto this Lake of northern lights. And all I can do is be alert and Safely glide home.

There was a change today. A change in schedule; a river Now off course— Spilling out over land, Causing expected flooding. Tears. It’s always tears rupturing. And the change splits Roads. Detours rise and novice Rafts are built with sticks— Twigs really. Pulled together with Weak tree sap and twine that the river Could easily dissolve and rip away; Sinking me and the twigs to The muddy bottom. And a paddle is essential. At least I have a paddle.

All the noise takes up space, Leaving no room to hear The sound of my own voice. It’s already quiet enough; Measured against the loudest Talkers and singers. I am a mouse. My thoughts shrivel and die In the crowded room. No one notices. Too crowded, I feel as if I’m sinking into a crawl space; With the music drumming my ears loose And chattering growing around me Like invasive moss. The mess of conversation makes My teeth throb and I melt Into the coldest sweat. Although, it feels like I’m being tossed In a stainless steel frying pan. The open flame blinds me— There’s tunnel vision. I can’t see. What did you say? My soul is trying to leave My paralyzed body behind. “Just crawl out when you can!” It can’t abandon me just yet. We’re tethered. How dare it try to leave me alone. And I still think, hopeful, Maybe next time won’t be as bad.

I saw a dog walking the other day, Down the sidewalk— Walking his owner. The owner trailed behind, fell behind As the dog took control and hurried down, Quickly down the cracked sidewalk. He urged the man to keep up, There was exploring to do, Things to smell. But the owner was tired, you could tell. So the dog kept up the pace, The human looked like he Wanted to lie down in The patchy grass; to lie on his back. But the dog nudged and pulled, Wanting to see the world. The sidewalk showed the way. The owner saw the excitement in his eyes. How could he say no?