21
they say it in different incredulous tones
/twenty-one/
i don’t feel it
i feel the inverse
the mirror opposite
i feel twice as old, i feel twice as young
i am exhausted, i’ve barely begun
i feel sage-weathered and child-naive
jaded-bitter and hopeful-eyed
i shift between the extremes like a planet with no true north
like a compass in gravitational flux
like a weathervane in a storm
i feel as though i should be uneasy
like an anxious figure is due a visit
as though i am too settled
who gave this calm to me?
is this what the years bring with it?
is this the reward for living this long?
this bone-tired weariness - knowing you’ve gone through hardship, knowing you will again
knowing what is to come can’t possibly be worse than what has come before but knowing it will try it’s damnedest anyway?
i am no longer surprised when things are difficult
that is now the default, will nothing be easy ever again?
is the standard set, the bar raised, the difficulty set to highest?
will it be exponential?
will i unravel further?
do i have anything left to give?
with everything the years have taken from me - is it never enough?
how much further?
how much longer?
when can i finally
rest?

my hips are wide-set
healthy, life-bearing, soft enough to set a child upon
to check drawers shut in the kitchenette

my lips are a full, ruddy pink
perfect to keep pursed in a thoughtless silent pout
to be kissed when opened

my ******* shape me into an hourglass
a treble clef in a red dress
my hair is now long enough to draw back from my face
long enough for a mans work roughened hands to run through

too bad i will crop it short again the second i see the sharp gleam of scissors

too bad the only hands that will ever touch me will only ever be as soft as my own

too bad i wrap my chest in gauze until my shirts lie flat

too bad i will not be silent, will draw blood if you come close enough to my teeth

too bad i will never miss a moon of blood until my body no longer has any more blood to give

too bad i will not be consumed by the mouths of the underserving,  
and the only life my body will serve shall be my own.

like crows flock old farm houses
we belong crookedly
you belong crookedly to me

like broken bottles lined up
on the ruins of a wall
like pennies at the base of fountains
like abandoned buildings underwater
like old churches reclaimed by the forests

i wrap my ivy around your bricks and drag you into the earth
i flood the malls and old pool houses and the glass ceiling caves in
i rust the surface of you until no one else can read your worth
i line you up and aim true
in great plumes of black feathered ******, i stand in the fields
and wait for you.

a feeling haunts me  
like a shadow of love, the bare traces of it
like some poor imitation, a figure in a mirror
like crumbs left in a trail into the woods
and if i follow, the trees will darken round me
my bare feet will pad across the forest floor
the moonlight hounds me
and if i find your cottage in the woods somewhere
know i will try not to come in
know i will sit out in the rain for as long as i can
know your fireplace will call to me
know your singing in the kitchen will draw me
know i will press my knees into the sodden earth
and beg myself not to go in
know that i will, anyway, when i can no longer bare it
know that i will hate myself, ardently, for weakness
know that i will love you, hopelessly, forever.

soulmates are an ugly thought
as if we must love one person like we must live one life
as if we must give ourselves in the pursuit of it
like nirvana

love should be distributed like rivers into tributaries
like waterfalls into ravines
love should burst forth from you like rain
you should water the people in your life like trees in rainforests -
like flowerbeds in gardens,  houseplants on windowsills
how dare you think you should drown a person
singularly in an ocean?
have you ever thought how lonely that might be
how utterly unforgiving?

why dare them to swim to the seabed if it is impossible
if they will die before they reach the end?
you should dole out your love in bottles, cups, ice cubes
you should flood the whole basin of your life until
everyone you care for is saturated in it

turn your love into a monsoon
into the drizzle that saves someones crops
into the storm someone gets caught in and relishes
into the pitter-patter drops outside somebodies room

make your love fluid
let it seep into the crevices of the pavement
the cracks in the foundations
and even when it freezes, it shall expand
break something open until it melts again
leave people changed by you
blessed by the memory, craving your return -
replenished all the same.

sometimes
you have to press your thumb between
the cloves of the snakes head
like peeling an apple with a knife
sometimes
you have to hold its maw open on a hinge
so its teeth drip, honey golden
like apple cider vinegar
sometimes
you have to pierce the lid
collect the venom yourself
sometimes
in order to be cured
you have to face the thing that bit you
hold it by the neck
say please, say thank you
and put it back where you found it
but sometimes
rarely, if ever
but sometimes
you have to sever the beasts head
before it can bite you again.

Too many people I've met
Use me as a mediatory point
As some stepping stone to heaven
They climb the rungs of my spine
Like steps to the pearly gates

I am not here to absolve you
I am not some merciful god
You can’t wring forgiveness from me
Like blood from a stone

I am not here to cleanse you
I won’t sweep dirt from your skin
Like some almighty wave -  
If you want my ocean
You will have to drown for it.