It didn’t happen overnight,
It was nightly,
In the dark.
Festering in the day,
Guilty in the sun,
Hidden under smiles,
Masked in the noise,
Owned by the owner,
Used by the user,
Fed by the feeder.
Listened to
Cared for
Nurtured.
Until you believed that it mattered.
It doesn’t matter.
You do.

Did you know I’m brave?
Did you know I’m caring?
Did you know I’m extraordinary?

I’d like to cash these in.
I’d like a payout.
I’d like something in return.

Did you know I’m weak?
Did you know I’m pathetic?
Did you know I’m ungrateful?

I’d like to be punished.
I’d like to be held accountable.
I’d like to bleed away my guilt.

If you’re still listening,
I’d like to know what it is
that I truly deserve.
I’d like to feel free from worrying
that I’m taking too much,
Or not enough,
Or too much,
Or not enough

Then, out of nowhere,
I sat up in the dark
and started to sing
soft notes unnamed
giving and taking
just enough air
to reverberate
my heart
and muster
my soul
until silently singing
I headed for the door.

Something inside
wears a devilish smirk,
mocking my healthy living.

It’s seen this cycle
many times before,
but life’s not that forgiving.

Smiling because
it knows my truth
whispering in my ear,

your pleasure lies
in pain my friend,
this act is insincere.

Get up early,
eat an apple,
run a mile or two.

Unless you wipe
me off your heart
self-worth will not accrue.

You don’t believe,
not yet I know,
from here it’s plain to see.

Because I am doubt,
the thing that shouts,
you’re destined for misery.

First
my neckbones decayed
from lack of use
but I didn’t mind
if my head could lay
blissfully in your lap
forever

Then
you melted away
leaving my mind
to rot in mud
squishy
like the texture
of dependence

Now
I will grow new bones
in a garden long neglected
teeming with life
just waiting for light
once buried
out of fear
I might **** it

Overtime
I will bloom
with a new sense of self
aware
of my prolific potential
with head held high
by homegrown bones
I will never let die again

What a gift to be half crazy.
High functioning,
they like to say.
How flattering to be told
I hide it well.

“It seems you are quite bright.”
Why thank you doctor dear.
I’ll revel in your
in your homage
while I drink.

How ‘bout this,
write me a list,
sane people of the world.
A definition
of who exactly
deserves your help.

Internal wounds,
please breach the surface.
Don’t make me dig for you.
I’ll never find
the proof I need
to show I’m worthy.

Have you ever self-destructed?
Said **** it to the world.
Left logic
locked away
until tomorrow.

Have you ever given up?
Thrown a tantrum
about your life.
Left gratitude
to grovel
at the door.

Have you ever realized later,
how blinding self-hate is?
How easily it tricks you
into believing,

you’re not worth
the love you’re given,
you have no love to give.
No wonder
you stay in bed
to ease the pain.

But trust me
I’ve laid in darkness,
wallowing in despair,
tried to warm,
my freezing heart
with heaps of blankets.

But I’ve learned
time and again,
when I emerge
from shifting shadows,
life is waiting
ever patient
as I learn,

how to see myself through eyes
with compassion
for healing wounds,
trusting
my beating heart
says I’m enough.

My inner self
wears a devilish smirk
mocking my healthy living.

It’s seen this cycle
many times before
life’s not that forgiving.

Smiling because
it knows my truth
whispering in my ear,

your pleasure lies
in pain my friend
this act is insincere.

Get up early
eat an apple
run a mile or two.

Unless you wipe
me off your heart
self-worth will not accrue.

You don’t believe
not yet I know
from here it’s plain to see.

Because I am you
not drugs or *****
you cannot hide from me.

Then, out of nowhere,
I sat up in the dark
and started to sing
soft notes unnamed
giving and taking
just enough air
to reverberate
my heart
and muster
my soul
until silently singing
I headed for the door.

I wish people revolved around me
like the moon around the Earth
so that I might plan
for the tides.
Instead,
people swarm
wielding an erratic force
tugging in all directions
shifting my focus
in and out
pulling my confidence
back and forth
forcing reality
to ebb and flow
as if the gravity
of my sanity
were not enough
to hold it solidly
in place.

Reality should be the mountains
not the sea.
Tell me,
how do I freeze the oceans
without killing all the life?

It was a black dress
and a $12 glass of white wine
that I later beamed to pay for

Sitting at the bar
alone
I got to see you first
I saw you without me
I could not wait
to change that

Tell me
let me tell you
pizza and salad
a conversation
that needed nothing
lingered in moments
and made me love you

Tiramisu and coffee
I should have kissed you
in the stairwell
of that restaurant
basement

“Come home with me?”
“ok.”
the train station
“I can’t.”

“Can I hug you?”
you asked
don’t leave
you left.

a flight back home
away from you
and that hug
and that hope
It was a black dress
a $12 glass of wine
a night
one night
that I was yours
Such short and simple words to hide a long enduring pain
born out of romanticizing
handing your heart
to a perfect stranger

trust me
they’re never perfect

And so it went,
until she decided to stop.
Smile.
And begin again.
In a different direction.
Curving upward,
Towards the Sea of Tranquility

I stare down.
Straight down.
And stroke the silky threads
of a golden woven flower.

You cannot have my eyes.
Audio is all I can bear.
Forgive me. Forgive me.
I’m trying.

I yell for just a moment.
The flood threatens the dam.
What a relief it would be
to burst and ride that wave.

Your love, your love, your love.
Knocking painfully at my door
I am afraid to open it
for the strangers who raised me.

Erosion of her brain
made her something new
but new
is not always shiny
new
can be angry
new
can be dangerous
new
can be broken
new
can break you
and her
and us

No going back to the womb
it isn’t the same home
I wonder
would she grow me differently
with her new brain?
maybe she’d grow a daughter
who knew
who her mother was
with brain cancer.

Looking in the bathroom mirror
I talk to living ghosts
relics of today
that haunt my searching eyes
gazing back
a talking girl
with ears for words unheard
playing out
what could be said
if perfect
came
when called
if moments
came
when needed
if words
could travel
through time

water runs
hands dry
lights off
on another
lonely conversation

She’s stealing the friction
the heat I’d spark
if it was my skin
pressed against yours.
She’s stealing my thoughts
my filthy whispers
the ones
I’d breathe
in your ear.
She’s stealing the sweat
that would slicken my chest
if it was my body
sliding along yours.

She’s stealing
but she’s not.
It’s given.
Relinquished.
I bet you beg her
to take you in her mouth.
I bet you beg her
to enter you
again and again.

And that’s what shatters
my ignorant shield
and loathingly grips
my untouched body
with the physical reality:

When she touches you
you touch her too.

Drifting from the moment
like tying up my laces.
A process so ingrained
I’ll be doing it in my grave.

Snapping back I see a bow
and find my body dead.
Can’t even remember how I died,
let alone how I lived.

Live on barefoot beaches
with grains etched in your feet.
Feel each one for what it is,
now is in your reach.

I long for an elephant mother
A love above a simple human’s
She’d rest her head upon my shoulder
The exact weight of the past on the present
So that I might find my solace
in each breath I choose to take.

At night she’d place me on her back
and I’d slip away into blissful sleep
helplessly lulled by the sway of her walk
forever set to the cadence of the calm

As I stare up at the ceiling
I drown myself in metaphors
until I’m inundated
by self-inflicted
symbols of misery.

Oh how clever you are,
to conjure up a whole lifetime
from this one moment,
in which you’ve forgotten
about the sea.

I float on currents of the past,
with eyes to the sky,
ears submerged,
and hands dragged along the streambed.
My fingers mingle with smooth stones
that tell me a story
of heartache
redemption
and sharp edges worn down with time.
I pass by stoic boulders,
rough and slick and calm.
Sitting still, but not rooted.
I feel them listening
for a force
so extraordinary,
so impossible,
so rare,
even they doubt it will come.
But their very existence
proves that it will.

I slam against the door of time
like a petulant child.
What do you mean,
I scream
What do you mean,
that there is no alternative
to this *******
you call waiting.

I am petrified by your promises,
the ones I don’t believe.
Immortal hope
betrays the heart
as it binds its beat
to the erratic pulse
of your fickle mercy.

Humbly,
I ask the future,
be kind to me.