please

forgive me,

this chest scar,
is a crack in the heartland,
deep rupture,
grime and shadow seeping in.

landscape,
an infinite black lake.

I can see
my reflection clear in it;
it is
broken glass, fragmented and
reassembled again,
again,
monstrous, twisted as a
swan dipped in oil, drowned twice, feathers
lathered so thickly, so
irrecoverably.

oil, oil, it drips so
slowly and sickly and
sweetly.

Big hair, don’t care
With cherry cola lips
Hotpants flatter her hips
She’s a roller derby girl
Gonna give you a twirl
Skating in a rock’n’roll rink
She gives me a wink
As she rolls on by
I think she might be bi

Color Me Yellow
Bright,
bright,
yellow.

I grew up knowing
to never look at the sun,
to just trust it was there.

I was taught,
to never look forward,
if the light is yellow.
"Prepare to stop."

I don't see color anymore,
except red.
except when the pain in my eyes
almost reached a different pain on my thighs.

we're Bright
even when nobody can ever see it
nor direct or indirect
Nor behind or in front.
nor in front or above you,

hanging like the photos of
when I used to be happy.

Bright,
bright
Yellow.

On Christmas Eve I was talking to my brother

It was 2:30 in the morning

We had both been drinking.

I read him one of my poems.

That one about surviving myself.

It sparked a conversation.

The tough kind.

About suicide.

I told him I truly believed most people

Dont WANT to die

They just want the pain to stop

I told him it was a cry for help.

He told me my first attempt was not.

He said with tears rolling down his cheeks

"You were done that night."

With tears now streaming down my cheeks I replied

"I can't talk about this. Not tonight."

"I know." He cried

"Did you ever get help after that night? After seeing me like that? Did you talk to someone?"

"I couldnt talk about it. It was too hard."

At this point we're both bawling.

I wrapped my arms around him.

I apologized.

See that's the thing about attempting suicide and surviving.

If you're lucky enough

To survive

You have to witness the pain everyone around you feels.

Because of you.

I never use to think it was selfish.

Not until Christmas Eve.

I broke my brother.

6 years ago.

And he's still haunted.