What was it about omnipresence that appealed to me
so much that I destroyed myself -
one mountain at a time, one boundary at a time -
until the alarms stopped going off at breaches?
The magpies don't sing when they're sad, so what am I
when I laugh at myself for crying?
Who am I looking for when my pillows waft voiceless lullabies
from a bed half-empty? (half yours, half mine,
and I don't know which one's missing.)
What was it about hedonism that disgusted me
so much that my body rejected kindness -
every peace offering, every affectionate touch -
until it could no longer hold itself together?
Metaphors, like escaped prisoners, running for a life anywhere that isn't here,
anywhere that isn't me,
and I fold and break into myself
in muted, nondescript implosions.
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 2:47 PM UTC
What was it about omnipresence that appealed to me
so much that I destroyed myself -
one mountain at a time, one boundary at a time -
until the alarms stopped going off at breaches?
The magpies don't sing when they're sad, so what am I
when I laugh at myself for crying?
Who am I looking for when my pillows waft voiceless lullabies
from a bed half-empty? (half yours, half mine,
and I don't know which one's missing.)
What was it about hedonism that disgusted me
so much that my body rejected kindness -
every peace offering, every affectionate touch -
until it could no longer hold itself together?
Metaphors, like escaped prisoners, running for a life anywhere that isn't here,
anywhere that isn't me,
and I fold and break into myself
in muted, nondescript implosions.
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