When I was a child,
I was taught poetry wasn't mild,
It was deep as the sea,
And it seemed truly unachievable for me.
I was taught poetry had to rhyme,
Every single line, every single time.
So poetry seemed out of my reach,
Like chasing a seagull down a beach,
Jumping ever so slightly away,
Or soaring into the sunny day.

So I never thrived for what I thought would,
No, Could
Never be.

I guess now I'm fixing the mistakes of past me.

a metal plate inside me, ever since—

It wants an escape and so do I
— trapped, we're both trapped.
They told me it wouldn’t come out without melting
So I collected some sticks, set fire to my lungs
—the smoke came out of my lips
in shrill screams— I’m a forest

And my blood, a scared squirrel;
runs up and down my depths
with a blazed tail. burns what it licks
—the bottom of my muddy grounds
trees trunks, branches, leaves and nails.
the bridge between my brain and I

and everything shuts down—all lights go off
in the dark, only fire remains
no one dances where she does, no one lives where—

and I turn the metal sheet over
and over the flames
It heats up, it cooks and turns red
its edges kiss my flesh and he winces
— melts—
dripping into the fire—
gone—
and I turn the metal sheet over and over
It blushes but never bleeds
dry like dead leaves, but never dies
doesn’t melt, nor soften,
doesn’t even breathe—

and the flesh keeps dripping and then rebuilds
and the dripping rebuilds the fire
and the fire rebuilds the smoke—
but the metal never melts

the smoke creeps out and I let it
Someone tells me to stop the noise
but I say I never said a word—
And they tell me to stop the noise
But I say I never said a world—

and the smoke comes out and I let it
and they tell me to stop the noise
but I don’t say I never said a word.

and the metal never melts, the fire never stops
and I never say a wo—

Someone clamps my mouth shut and I fall asleep,
turning the metal over the flames
turning—still turning.
Still turning.

Turn
       ing.
and all in me screams.
                             Turning over
             and over
and
over.
      and
          
—ov
        er.

and all in me screams.

Fireflies in a bottle
Beautiful, aren’t they?

Bottled to be appreciated
Trapped to be admired

Left suffocating
For our own convenience.

The storm limps away into the night
I follow along--

out of an enigmatic temptation, I dare not fathom
I once visited the ocean they said was in love with the shore
they told me to walk bare foot on that ****** sand,
and breathe in the rosy winds
said it would help calm my ravenous heart
Ocean, they said would hear all my unsung screams

said if I gave myself to the dust, it would crawl up on me
and cover the naked of my shivering being like a wool blanket

I sat with my legs in the shallow water
and watched the giggling waves winding over each other
the sturdy tides curtly calming them down
only to be disturbed again by sudden callous gusts
Ocean, they said, would wake the child in me

running through the alleys, I call after the raging winds
but the night dozes soundly to sleep.

I walked bare foot but the seashells poked at my skin
as if desperately reaching for the flesh, or I think they did
closed my eyes; and oh the devils that I saw,
dancing their charm out; seduced, I forgot the flowery air,
but I know I inhaled it for I still feel the rose-thorns ***** my throat

The horizon smiled at me as I drew away my lids
I watched the lacy white waves ebb away
hoping they would take along what of me was left to carry

I follow you around, sailing through my vivid seas,
noting down the shrinking moons.
hoping to reach you but then I reach a village,
full of ancient wells and old kids
I wander through fields reeking with grass,
and through moors starving for it
Hoping to reach you but then I reach a city
full of luxurious graves and flooded streets
and so busy do I get tasting new drinks
and walking through puzzling, shining halls
that I forget about you or the old blue void calling me home

But that lasts for mere centuries--
Until one day some sudden chirp brings something back
a morning breeze so saltier than before
and when I see the familiar fields far away
the trees thinking, the bushes sleeping
somewhere behind the unmoving crowd,
a thin colourless line ,where the sky kisses the earth
calls out to me, singing its alluring ballads, someone familiar,
Almost a friend.

So I set off and run along the paths that lead me to you
drinks clink but I run off, villagers offer me roofs but I sail away
days blinking by, dozing off cautiously at nights,
feasting upon wild roots I run off for you, an almost friend.

And you’re there, right there, here I come, one jump away
your hand mere inches away from mine
your sound right next to my ears, whispering
forever teasing, sneaking away silently as I come closer
Like a hungry bull, I try reaching for the apple hanging by my horns

This blazed sky is no home.

When I lie on the sand
I only feel the little pearls climbing my body like ants,
They reach the top of me, pin in their nails and tie up their ropes
I wriggle and I scream then I tire and still
This is not falling asleep at all.
I feel like being dragged away into the snarling mouth of a cave
where the only noise is that of metal striking metal
knives spanking stones, daggers sighing in relief
as they slice smoothly through a skin so mine
Slow, shy sounds of my blood dripping down,
embracing the rugged ground and never letting go
Slow groaning, cracking of bones as they let go.
vessels—Oh so lovely—vessels only laughing

So I sit up.
I sit in the waves and watch them flutter about me
silently I sway along with the air, tides they greet and go
I wish they’d take me along wherever they went
maybe one day they’d leave me exhausted on an empty shore
and I’d look at the ever widening sky and be home

But they leave me behind on my very own land—
They ebb away from the shore they’re in love with
and she never follows.