sun shadows inked in sight
blink jump the dots appear
seared my eye through the glass and lens
click black click back
float off to edge.
sick.
my mother is sick
and so am i
for whatever she is
i am too
my mother is sick
she slaps herself
i watch her violent palm
hit her face
again and again
she knocks her head
her eyes shut tight
her tears escape
she screams a little
and slaps too hard
and i hear the red blood
swelling up in her face
her throat is stuffed closed
is forced open again
is constricted
is deconstructed
her hair is a mess
comes unclipped
is shaken loose
then knotted and tangled
twice a week
she strangles herself
i watch her do it
and sometimes
i even help
my mother get sick
i blow some words
to push her fists
she's made me
she makes me
feel her sick
so that one day
maybe today
i'll make myself sick.
and so am i
for whatever she is
i am too
my mother is sick
she slaps herself
i watch her violent palm
hit her face
again and again
she knocks her head
her eyes shut tight
her tears escape
she screams a little
and slaps too hard
and i hear the red blood
swelling up in her face
her throat is stuffed closed
is forced open again
is constricted
is deconstructed
her hair is a mess
comes unclipped
is shaken loose
then knotted and tangled
twice a week
she strangles herself
i watch her do it
and sometimes
i even help
my mother get sick
i blow some words
to push her fists
she's made me
she makes me
feel her sick
so that one day
maybe today
i'll make myself sick.
plans.
what i want to ask is
when you plan your life
do you plan the last day of your life
do you write down in that little precious notebook
of ideas
what color your bed sheets will be
when you cough out your last
and
who will be there to witness your exit
in that comfort planned?
will it be
a saturday
conveniently so
so they could read your name in church
the very next day
so people can hear their own memories of you
slide by for a few moments
so you can watch
in your soulful form
who are the ones who cry for you?
and if you had children
what will they say
in front of your grave
or will they be there at all
since they never forgot the date
their mother ran away
with another man
that bit
among others
you had not planned.
when you plan your life
do you plan the last day of your life
do you write down in that little precious notebook
of ideas
what color your bed sheets will be
when you cough out your last
and
who will be there to witness your exit
in that comfort planned?
will it be
a saturday
conveniently so
so they could read your name in church
the very next day
so people can hear their own memories of you
slide by for a few moments
so you can watch
in your soulful form
who are the ones who cry for you?
and if you had children
what will they say
in front of your grave
or will they be there at all
since they never forgot the date
their mother ran away
with another man
that bit
among others
you had not planned.
only want.
only want fresh air
only want to breathe when i am suffocated
only want to move
only want to be free when i am trapped
only want
only want what i cannot have
only want what i do not need
only want what i think i need
only want
only want when i cannot be satisfied
want
every moment
want
any which thing
want
any person
want to go
because i cannot go.
want to know
what is keeping me?
only want to breathe when i am suffocated
only want to move
only want to be free when i am trapped
only want
only want what i cannot have
only want what i do not need
only want what i think i need
only want
only want when i cannot be satisfied
want
every moment
want
any which thing
want
any person
want to go
because i cannot go.
want to know
what is keeping me?
like cold months
with cool breezes
late nights or
early morning
like the windows
opened wide
puffs of dark air
rolling in
like lips parted
breathing still
feel the O2
running through
like the one hand
on my mind
walking twirling
through my hair
like soft feathers
on dreamcatchers
downy filters
in my lair
like your shadow
on my waist
like your shoulder
by my ear
like quiet laughs
after hours
like sweetheart
unreality.
with cool breezes
late nights or
early morning
like the windows
opened wide
puffs of dark air
rolling in
like lips parted
breathing still
feel the O2
running through
like dim lamps lighted
on my desk
like the stars
on my wall
like the one hand
on my mind
walking twirling
through my hair
like soft feathers
on dreamcatchers
downy filters
in my lair
like your shadow
on my waist
like your shoulder
by my ear
like quiet laughs
after hours
like sweetheart
unreality.
i suppose
PRELUDE.
i suppose
it hurts
to know i will never
be as perfect as you
though it might be nice to know
you are not perfect too.
I.
on these days,
when i have too much work to do
i look at you
and step
from warm admiring sand
into envious waters
lapping up
hungry waves
II.
my eyes
up and down
your spine
and its visibility
under the light
through the window
III.
on your delicate bed
next to you i want to
IV.
carry your body away
to the land of starvation
filled with desire to have
and to own
my mind drips
with souring saliva
my throat has never
felt this dry before
never so suffocated before
at the sight of you
and the invisible things
in your skin
that make it
perfectly whole
bones
never looked so in love
with flesh
with life
and you think no one wants
to kiss
your curves more than light
who loves you too much
even when it rains
the drops prisms of rainbow
across your chest
across the length of your leg.
V.
though i have never wanted
to break and be broken
i do now
so very bad
VI.
my mind
never so smooth as you
will beat you
at that swimming race
any day
but
i will never feel quite
atoned
for the private things
i say to myself
over the morning bowls of
cereal with milk
eaten at night
with criminal heart
for the time that i kill
breaking myself
to forget the deaths i had caused
in myself through you
VII.
i know you
must not be perfect
but i am lied to
by what i see
by your being in your body
so happily
VIII.
singing and dancing
farther and farther away
from this thing that i am in:
i live because i keep it alive
though some days
i'd rather dissipate.
IX.
you can help me
my dearest friend
for i am your victim
as much as you are mine
trapped by land mines
we risk it all the time
from morning to night
as we breathe
we die.
X.
if there be one or many
storms until peace.
i suppose
it hurts
to know i will never
be as perfect as you
though it might be nice to know
you are not perfect too.
I.
on these days,
when i have too much work to do
i look at you
and step
from warm admiring sand
into envious waters
lapping up
hungry waves
II.
my eyes
up and down
your spine
and its visibility
under the light
through the window
III.
on your delicate bed
next to you i want to
IV.
carry your body away
to the land of starvation
filled with desire to have
and to own
my mind drips
with souring saliva
my throat has never
felt this dry before
never so suffocated before
at the sight of you
and the invisible things
in your skin
that make it
perfectly whole
bones
never looked so in love
with flesh
with life
and you think no one wants
to kiss
your curves more than light
who loves you too much
even when it rains
the drops prisms of rainbow
across your chest
across the length of your leg.
V.
though i have never wanted
to break and be broken
i do now
so very bad
VI.
my mind
never so smooth as you
will beat you
at that swimming race
any day
but
i will never feel quite
atoned
for the private things
i say to myself
over the morning bowls of
cereal with milk
eaten at night
with criminal heart
for the time that i kill
breaking myself
to forget the deaths i had caused
in myself through you
VII.
i know you
must not be perfect
but i am lied to
by what i see
by your being in your body
so happily
VIII.
singing and dancing
farther and farther away
from this thing that i am in:
i live because i keep it alive
though some days
i'd rather dissipate.
IX.
you can help me
my dearest friend
for i am your victim
as much as you are mine
trapped by land mines
we risk it all the time
from morning to night
as we breathe
we die.
X.
i suppose
it matters notif there be one or many
storms until peace.
sustenance.
thought you were some
romantic poet
walking out there with a midnight step
no coat on
just a shirt
the top button undone
thought you liked the cold
thought you enjoyed its numb affects
thought you liked the way your body felt dead
your hair almost as careless as your shoulders
slightly caved in
it was cold outside
just thirty degrees
the midnight figure
i thought was walking home
was walking only for the moment
for sustenance
life and satisfying cravings
things you don't need
but would like.
romantic poet
walking out there with a midnight step
no coat on
just a shirt
the top button undone
thought you liked the cold
thought you enjoyed its numb affects
thought you liked the way your body felt dead
your hair almost as careless as your shoulders
slightly caved in
it was cold outside
just thirty degrees
the midnight figure
i thought was walking home
was walking only for the moment
for sustenance
life and satisfying cravings
things you don't need
but would like.
holding.
i see you too
sometimes
in the morning when our eyes are still blurry from the night before
when
with one foot on the floor
and the other striving for balance
our whole bodies seem to want to just fall down
split apart from our centers
as if lacking weight in the middle
where our esophagus runs down
the in and the out that passes through
has disappeared
and without a line to hold us in place
our whole bodies seem to want to just fall down
so sometimes
i catch you in those moments
and with a certain change in your face
i see you
try to
pull yourself back together
but i think it's beautiful
to watch you as you fall
apart
i am
willing to
fall beneath you
whatever your weight
as your body comes down
i feel the water pull together again
sliding across the cold surface that keeps us
in our form of flesh that holds us
whole
despite a few missing
pieces
yes
i think it's quite nice
to stay just this way
fallen
apart
our flesh holding.
sometimes
in the morning when our eyes are still blurry from the night before
when
with one foot on the floor
and the other striving for balance
our whole bodies seem to want to just fall down
split apart from our centers
as if lacking weight in the middle
where our esophagus runs down
the in and the out that passes through
has disappeared
and without a line to hold us in place
our whole bodies seem to want to just fall down
so sometimes
i catch you in those moments
and with a certain change in your face
i see you
try to
pull yourself back together
but i think it's beautiful
to watch you as you fall
apart
i am
willing to
fall beneath you
whatever your weight
as your body comes down
i feel the water pull together again
sliding across the cold surface that keeps us
in our form of flesh that holds us
whole
despite a few missing
pieces
yes
i think it's quite nice
to stay just this way
fallen
apart
our flesh holding.
calls to broken fast.
1.
crumbs swallowed my throat
saliva crying with guilt
tonight
another promise
submitted to self-determined fate
2.
and we don't know if it was because
the weight was too heavy underwater
or the lighted fool popped too far into the sky
to fight
3.
mismatching notes of a funeral march
made us all cry
our hearts drummed extra beats
for the ones who passed away
quiet
4.
the remembered will be the forgotten
the now and forever never
the words that were sucked dry by hunger
enjoyed their pride in their short highs of life
disappeared in the moment
5.
i promise you were born to die
and the second death
will be better than the first.
crumbs swallowed my throat
saliva crying with guilt
tonight
another promise
submitted to self-determined fate
2.
and we don't know if it was because
the weight was too heavy underwater
or the lighted fool popped too far into the sky
to fight
3.
mismatching notes of a funeral march
made us all cry
our hearts drummed extra beats
for the ones who passed away
quiet
4.
the remembered will be the forgotten
the now and forever never
the words that were sucked dry by hunger
enjoyed their pride in their short highs of life
disappeared in the moment
5.
when zero turned one
and one more
well i never recall these things anywayi promise you were born to die
and the second death
will be better than the first.
heater life, in two parts.
blood loss in my fingers and toes tell me
(me)
(me)
winter has come to settle in the middle of the night
(night)
(night)
when the heat has been turned off by
(why)
(why)
unknown shadows peopled by the silent cars driving by
(bye)
(bye)
outside my window near the howls that bluntly blow their breaths—i
(i)
before morning arrives at my door
before morning arrives at my door
(or)
light that comes a little too soon
(soon)
sleep that arrives a little too late
(late)
(late)
numbed without hope the constant hollowing of inside skin
(sin)
(sin)
i hear the heater and burst within.
(clink clink, clang clang)
dress fabric heated by the radiator churning warmth too hot to touch
i move away and feel the cold climb back on my body
starting on my thighs waves of burnish cooling
hardening my skin to brave the december wind
it might be nice to just feel perfect warmth homogenized for once
though without me there is the cold and heat
constantly divorced
refusing to speak when one
or the other
is in the same room.
they come and go,
without a word,
come and go
without a kiss.
i move away and feel the cold climb back on my body
starting on my thighs waves of burnish cooling
hardening my skin to brave the december wind
it might be nice to just feel perfect warmth homogenized for once
though without me there is the cold and heat
constantly divorced
refusing to speak when one
or the other
is in the same room.
they come and go,
without a word,
come and go
without a kiss.
the big grand mall.
would you cry with me
when mother loses us
at the big grand mall
on a sunny day
as people run about
in their familiar bent circles
like the puppies in the park
playing catch the ball
playing chase the squirrel
mourn with me would you
hold me as i shake my anxiety
on to your body
i am alone in your warmth
i am alone in your body
no longer there
in the absence of mother
we embrace
one within the other
i
the child you forgot
in yourself
i
welcome you back
just as you are lost.
when mother loses us
at the big grand mall
on a sunny day
as people run about
in their familiar bent circles
like the puppies in the park
playing catch the ball
playing chase the squirrel
mourn with me would you
hold me as i shake my anxiety
on to your body
i am alone in your warmth
i am alone in your body
no longer there
in the absence of mother
we embrace
one within the other
i
the child you forgot
in yourself
i
welcome you back
just as you are lost.
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