Exhale, a Collection of Poetry
Written by Nathan Moone, Edited by Sara Mallory
Mask by Madison DeCory
Sigh
A sigh is a hell of a sound
A simple noise at best, release air from lungs
There is no language barrier in the space of an exhale
Just like there is no way to really spell sigh
It’s not as if context is taught in English classes
My first experience was a conversation
far too long and it simply just
sigh
Everything I wanted to say floated with a rush of air
But sighs can be translated incorrectly, prolonging the internal strife
because I’m too nice and weak-willed to leave the conversation
sigh
can be a curse really
It may have a language of its own
Most can recognize it
For better or worse
a sigh is a closing door
One that swings and hits you on the way out
Be it major or minor, something knocked the wind out of you
My father
A father cannot love his sons as much as his daughters.
You, the proud civil servant,
the lives you’ve saved,
the hearts you broke,
a family you strive to be iron for.
Strong and stable, only bending to strict circumstance.
Me,
unwilling to follow the same sized footprints you leave behind
Me,
who will chase skirts and pants
yet fumble with the idea of either.
The loose artist grown from firm foundation.
In your eyes, mine were split from
a blue that is a symbol of you and I.
We are inseparable.
No, I won’t be the man I pictured for you
Immovable and strong, but I can be flexible and stable.
I’m the one lost,
nose down in a book or a screen
kissing boys and girls and everyone in between and outside.
Heartbreaker is where we relate.
Rewarded with a clap on the back and a smile,
Now that I know you are not Superman, I see you as human.
See your frustrations and sadness.
Disappointment.
Making you real and tangible.
Fantasies only last for so long.
Now I see your humanity.
I hear you through the walls when I’m home.
I’m well aware you don’t have any daughters.
Songbird in the Wind
The choice is yours if you’re willing to choose
Seeing as you’ve got nothing to lose
And I could use a canary
- Hey Little Songbird, Hadestown
I watched you, little Songbird,
knowing that one day you would be my ruin.
Maybe it’s me, little Songbird, to expect
duration with love
love that warms the heart
you run home with,
greedily bask in its glory that, yes,
despite faded white lines on skin from self-abuse, there is a possibility for hope.
The Robin took my innocence.
The Hummingbird my rose lenses.
You, little Songbird,
suffer too.
Behind your eyes, fragility.
A leaf shaking in the wind.
I will bring you home, little Songbird,
But please, you may not bear to take it
little Songbird, but I shall give what I can of love.
A little more
weight on your shoulders
But not comparable to the wind pushing me towards
you, little Songbird, as I walk away
to where I find what can be taken next.
By a passion, a dream, an other.
It is you, little Songbird.