writing poetry in the back of quantitative methods
I don't want to get too metaphysical
can we?
the abstract is where I left my bags
I can't find my way back
there are no entryways, no guides
sometimes the trees or the colors tease
but they fall flat backward, a standing set piece
nothing for me to reach my arms into
i used to be up to my elbows
the architecture was screaming
my teachers sang in class, cried through the lessons
everything moved in speech
now I never reach the action potential
the environment slightly inflates but I do not take off
too grounded, to real, too fixated on things that are surface
I want to fly and I want to drown
to be in the thick and fight my way onto paper
to feel in metaphors and abstractions
for now, i will run an analysis of variance
and go to sleep, indefinitely

with a capital H (Him)
no, not a god
but a ruler
a masculine power i see all around me
Him
meaning mean
meaning me. ten.
Him, again.
intruding in my face, in my head.
in my bed.
him, many men.
again, again.
my stomach swims
he spreads.
at 25 cant sleep in bed
without a knife, melatonin, and gabapentin
Him.
hypervigilant
when will he begin again?
I look for Him in friends, in men
underneath anyone could be Him
when anger sprouts
and my lover shouts
or when he teases, or grabs, or doubts
i think he's Him, i've lost again
my  radar lacking adequate detection
i panic, i freeze, i run, i scream
i tell him I know he's hiding Him
he lives within
he promises he's all himself
but my world is shadowed in multiple layers
my lover and Him are both there
overlapped like a map with multiple variables
how can i not fear
how can i not carry this
how can i trust my judgments
how can i distrust my judgments
how can i be sure he's not around the corner
inside my lover
waiting for me to rest
to let go, to drop my shoulders, show my soul
so he can grasp and twist and maul
all with a smile
and a later denial
"it wasn't me, maybe it was Him"

there are times when i am tall
small, leaning, hidden, buried
the perception altered by emotion
the feeling of inhabiting this body
always morphing, fleeing, returning
i want to be tall and full of eye contact
i want to fill fully into this form

I am dying.
I am dying.
I am dying.
I am hoping I am making space
for something new.

big ***** belly beast dont you ever wonder why the leather and the lace dont really meet where they said they would? chomp devour eat taste lie down and tell me which way you thought the valve was facing. dig and spill and weave and spit. i do not mind as long as you are someone who can tell me things like the dragon did. arent you that dude i met on fifth street? the one who was carrying a canister and a banner and wearing a purple glove? oh, nah? anyways where did the pig toes go and if they are in your bowels don't you feel weird about that, just a little bit, a weird that lightly tickles, doesn't scream? i once tried to hang a banana from a window sill and it wasn't at all what i thought it would be. are you even listening? can you hear me? when we built this underground tunnel i dont think we even considered that we might forget our shoes. why the **** are pathways full of pebbles and where did i leave my calluses? last time i saw them they were under the living room sofa. i heard that forgetfulness is a sign of adult ADD but i cant just go around diagnosing myself and my Medicaid card doesn't work here so i crawl around. never seizure. search. i felt like a peacock today, i had acne coloring my face and i had eyes all over my tail. i was just trying to eat some green beans. isn't it frustrating to have legs? it can be. it can be. it cant be their fault. or their fault. or mine. or his. no where to put it. it is everywhere.

it rains
i take adderall and cannot sleep
in pursuit of upkeep of identity

my job is *****
i have worms under my fingernails
so i drug myself to write about diet
and then i wake up to grow food

i wonder how vast your  love is
if i become ugly, fully hog buried
will you truly call me a piece of you?

i have multiple identities
yours, amy's, ukelele's, mary oliver's
i have to move my eyes around to heal
bring it all up and look at it until i am steady

i am trying to decide whether i should give into rejection
not by me, not by you, but by us
the fit is not correct; too expansive, too suffocating

when i came to the warmth i lost my shell
but i gained other markers later
at first tumbling backward
but maybe it was bouncing forward

the leaves change and  i am shushed
in orange i realize all exists outside of evaluation
i must only let the soft animal of my body love what it loves

i so search
my fingers clench
your softening eyes
demand unity
the looking cross
throughout the days
the growing fear
the realizations of the endless
boundaries of this home
how to ensure
how to ignore
my imagined pains
to know the proximity
is to run away from distance
to not want a blink
was never considered
but here
your softened eyes
my fingers rest

I wish to be honest and unashamed about the totality of my experiences and to always assume their humanness in an effort to minimize the illusions of separateness that come from my judgements of my reality