PHASE TWO

I'm constantly remembering

that i have forgotten what i want to say.

while looking to a future

sharp and thrilling and pulsing-

i am sewing on animal tails,

and putting my ear to the ground.

in this time of everyone around me growing up,

i am growing down.

burying myself in the soil and humus,

blinding my eyes and losing thoughts

of little importance.

and brilliance.

a resurrection of nature is blooming inside

of my body.

i want to be filled with a sense of belonging;

and the whole wide world

and the big blue sky

these things make you feel important,

they need nothing

except for you to listen.

to them to you to understanding that it is the same thing.

i can not stop running

away from myself;

into these ideas made of seeds and dirt

and still dormant. 

even though i know that everyone else has learned, 

that,

this is impossible.

i am letting this small revolution

swallow me,

silently,

spitting out feathers.

image from the drifter and the gypsy

THE FIRST TRY SINCE MAYBE NOVEMBER

In those faintly lit moments when

I barely open my eyes and

the thin transparent eyelid

mapped with wispy veins

barely reveals the gray shapes of reality which loom behind it.

When I finally sit up and arch my back

Stretching taught muscles

Willing my spine to start breathing again.

 

When I lay on my back with my knees carelessly laid open

and look at the pictures covering my walls.

In the hours spent walking around this city

thinking about slipping and falling

Wishing for more coffee

noticing that no one else is trying so desperately to make eye contact.

 

After brushing my hair with my fingers

catching the dead loose strands

taking slight pleasure in seeing how many there are

And once I finally lay down to fall asleep and

 

sort of  pretend like I can feel the weight of his body

 

 

regardless of how fleeting they may be--

in these moments, I am finally whole.

I HAVE FOUND YOU

This fragile heart beats

Small sounds of blue blood like tin

It fits in your palm

image by plrds

INVERTEBRATE

You rip me unwhole

a fractured person

wet spine, can’t hold straight

deep deep velvet silence suffocating,

 

My spine can’t hold itself up.

 

Pressure on the vertebrae,

for each disc, you have, carefully compressed

splayed, crooked, adjacent

small movements cause spiked pain

straight shots reverberating through,

deepening cracks and crevasses.

 

Unwhole, two halves

nameless small pieces missing

all is soaked and soft

up and down spinal nerves crackle and fizz

electric and suffering

they have no boundaries, shoot straight to the brain.

 

I take what’s offered

hollow sounds, empty drumming

your voice

ever weakening what was once strong thick bone

once proud, now,

my spine can’t hold itself up.

image from the drifter and the gypsy

BlOODLINE

We are all here,

The women.

Making comments sundry and all,

Our conversations bleeding and blending

Reforming each other, midway in the air.

 

We are all us,

The women.

We come from each other leading back,

And back out of this kitchen

Across oceans and soils

Leading to one life, our hearts can beat collectively.

 

We are all strong,

The women.

Thick hands pressing on backs,

We are warriors together

When one splinters, everyone is there to aide and support.

 

We are all lunar,

The women.

Our laughs and shrieks,

A cacophony of pitches

Sounds parallel, to the waxing and waning of the moon outside.

 

We are all here,

We are all us,

We are all strong,

We are all lunar,

The women.

 

We are all here.

 

We are all, our history.

image from ffffound