Cosmic dust
Is coming together again
Arranging
Bones
Skin
Body
I write of her
With cold hands
Perhaps these cells
Have been someone else
Perhaps another body
Another mind
One that called out
Into the beyond
Asking if they were alone
Will I answer their question
Or simply repeat it
Let it linger in the cosmos
Suspended
Between heaven
And earth

If I told you
I wanted to rip my skin off
I don’t know
How you would look at me
I can be naked
Not vulnerable
Know that when I say this
I have already
Been tearing myself into little pieces
It seems I have been trying
To get the words out
For a thousand years
My throat is full
Of all the things I did not say before
I sit here at the bottom
Of a hundred mountains
I will never climb
A hundred birds come and tell me
Of the beauty on the other side
I ache for something I will never see
I am too tired for the journey
My feet too weary for the path
My bones will not hollow themselves out
I am still empty
What a weight it is

Tell me what it is like
To have a father
One who comes when you call
One who’s voice you recognize
At whisper and not anger
Tell me what it is like
To be sheltered by strong hands
Before you go out into the world
Tell me what it is like
To learn strength from example
And not necessity

I do not know you
Because of who you are
Rather, the parts of you
I see in myself
If they were not so familiar
I would tear them out

I wish you had healed, for yourself
And for me
But there are no shooting stars
No second chances

I am further from you now
It doesn’t not matter
If we are a thousand leagues apart
When under the same roof
I was as inconsequential
Blood and strangers
Father and daughter

Tell me what it is like
To carry a burden
That weighs nothing to you
Tell me what it is like
Not to stumble
Under the shadow
Of your heavy fist

I do not care
If you are proud of me in secret
You do not know me
I do not care to be know

Do you remember when I was little?
I had a nightmare the whole house
Came down around us
It was terribly dark in the rubble
Once.
You comforted me
Once.

I am not dreaming now
The house has come down
Not from the rafters
From the foundation
It was not strong
Not solid
Not able

Tell me what it is like
To pour your anger out
Like water into the cups of children
Tell me what it is like
When you cannot quench their thirst
Tell me you will change
Tell me you are sorry
Tell me you can do better
Tell me I was worth being good for
Every time I counted my pennies
I come up short changed

I would not know
The man who says these things
He is not my father.

Our shower talks
Remind me of confession
Someone behind the curtain, listening
The other speaking
Vulnerable
Trying to get clean
Feeling the heat
The pressure
Letting it wash away

The woman made of bones
Stood in front of the oak door
‘Do you want to feel safe or happy?’
She challenged

I closed my mouth and turned away

After the sun went down
I thought about your face
And who you are
I remembered when
We were first in the dessert
Then the mountains
You were the same
We are home now
I am home
Because I am with you

This is all that I am
The child I was
Is dead and buried
Why so I hear her
Crying from the grave
My mother never tucked me in
My ghost
Makes her dirt bed every morning
Day Lilies kiss my forehead
A headstone headboard