I am a mermaid

singing a siren song
to bring you home

what could be greater
than a reunion

between the lull
of lapping waves

and a life ever after

in the mysterious ocean

Tonight I feel like a book, uncertain of words in it, sometimes they are slow & sometimes crawling,
in the readers minds, initiating conversations &
bedazzled on my tongue are some fallen tears, unspoken words, leftover kisses from my lover &
colliding bodies in my head are made of clay,
the memories of touching and being touched unfold in my dreams, they're me turning pages in a book
and i’m not joking when i say i feel like a book,
because i do and the words seep right through me
like my soul doesn't really exist, it is rather an uneven montage of feelings & words, like a book

Amidst the chaos of
what was and
what can never be

there is now

I’ll sit and hold
your hand, here,
in this baffling moment

and whisper
“It’s okay”

You said my scar
was a line that lead you
directly to my heart

(and I sighed)

because scar tissue
has no memory
and can never lead you
back to me again

You were forever saying “look!”

at the flowers
at the sky
at the stars
at the moon

but not once did you look
in my eyes

and see your pain reflected
back at you

a mirroring of broken souls
broken parts
broken hearts

that were destined to shelter
with each other

during the storm

tell me I am welcome
in the darkest corners
of your mind

tell me I am welcome
to rest my heart there

tell me I am welcome
to stay

Your gaze burns into
the back of my skull

intensity that I dare not
look away from

daring to ask questions
that speech cannot

a fire inside the heart
of your eyes

yet they are as empty as
a snakes

heartbreak cutting through
your irises

your pupils shining black
with grief

am I really responsible
for the death of such beauty?

for the death of a sacred look
a sacred wink

can we not go back to the beginning?

brown eyes that I fell in love with
and mine, blue

that you said were as deep
as the ocean

and yet more beautiful

and yet, and yet,
at the end of the day

more deadly

I sit drinking black coffee
(two sugars)
in an all night cafe
across from the park

my face is pressed
against the glass,
condensation forming
as the temperature hovers
around freezing

I stare at the trees,
watching the leaves intently
as they blow slightly in the wind

the birds are chirping loudly,
anticipating the dawn

as the dusty pinks
turn into pale blue

people appear like ants,
scuttling in formation,
focused, eyes fixed on their goal

the pavement takes their weight,
the train terminal opens
like the mouth of the sea,
allowing them all to enter

the city is waking up for me

under the sludge of this depression, I am awake. it’s morning outside but that doesn’t change a thing.

tiredness takes me to quiet places. I follow like I’m devout.

this forest is new. there’s a drumming of a heartbeat within the trunks of these trees.

it thrums under my fingertips. blood rushes forward to touch this rhythm.

songbirds nest, plume against plume for love and for rest. the birdsong is sweet as saccharine.

I taste the sap on my lips, its nectar, thick with agape. a salve for myriad laments under the roof of a single bell jar.

the indigo sky convulses, telling of fortunes. the clouds retch gilded roses.

blades of grass fence the circumferences of leaves in gypsy winds. the forest warms like a flame.

my body sways in solipsistic wonder. the crescents of my nails are crusted with lichen.

my limbs are drawn into its boughs, like gravity. like the bark is starved.

my mind is foliage and my crown is littered with inflorescence. my sky is finally cerulean and lilac.

each gall is an ancient hurt. each wound is a knot.

I breathe my mourning. I wait to bloom.

Your daffodil kisses
blow off the snowy
remnants of winter
and a spring starts to blossom
in my heart