Sometimes I get stuck in this state of Darkness
where my eyes can see
but it's like my head is just pitch black
and I almost wish I couldn't see anything,
like I wish I could just curl myself into a ball so tightly that I disappear from space for a while

sometimes I get stuck in this space
and I feel like my tears and my thoughts
are climbing up my esophagus and clogging my throat
blocking my airway
suffocating me from the inside

maybe I never told you I was depressed because who wants to relive that moment
that choking hazard moment of cotton ***** in my throat

maybe I never told you I was depressed because there are no words I can use to describe it that don't transform themselves into their meanings
that don't take over my mind
crawl through my head like little worms
eating away at my brain
my thoughts
my skin

have you ever thought of a traumatic experience and then felt those events happening again
felt the dark hole of life-threatening-trauma attack your mind
Shiver through your body
like it was a demon you let in through a memory-
through a word

maybe I didn't tell you I was depressed
because I wasn't strong enough
my depression fills me to the brim
fills my head and my chest
my arms and my fingers
I can feel it moving through my body
I can feel it expanding and engulfing everything inside of me
every last vein, nerve, *****, and tissue
how can you expect me to have the energy to fight
how can you expect me to have the energy to pick up the phone
to open my mouth
how can you expect me to have energy-to have the courage to utter the words of how I feel
I feel so worthless
in those moments I feel like there's this black whole inside me and it's consuming everything
it's taking everything but my skin
and it disgusts me

can you imagine the feeling,
having something so utterly repulsive on your skin you had to scrape it off immediately
It felt like you needed to be cleansed
like you needed a shower
take that feeling
now imagine it being under your skin
imagine, every muscle ***** vein nerve every cell in your body underneath your epidermis disgusts you
imagine all you wanted to do was to
GET
IT
OFF
and you can't
no matter how hard you try
you can't scrape it off
you can't claw It off

imagine you're scared of spiders
now imagine you're covered in spiders
and someone's holding down your arms
so you can't get them off
imagine them walking on your skin
in your mouth
crawling on your open eyes
in your ears
you're cringing at your own skin
You can feel them going down your throat
Their disgusting tickle in the pit of your stomach
in every crevice of your body
their tunneling under your skin
and you can't get them off
what are you supposed to do
but cry

Tired of being called names and listening to complaints from your partner because you snore at night?

But more than that, it is important to keep a check on your snoring as an excess of it can be an indicator of many diseases, one of them being sleep apnea, says Dr Kaushal Sheth, ENT surgeon, "People develop sleep apnea when their airway collapses partially or completely during sleep due to various medical conditions. This causes the oxygen levels in the blood to decrease and can be potentially life threatening when it becomes obstructive sleep apnea."

Elaborating on it further, Dr Jayashree Todkar, bariatric surgeon and obesity consultant says "Snoring is an indication of obstacles in a person's breathing. When excessive fat accumulates around the stomach, the lungs do not get ample space to expand when we inhale oxygen; this in turn leads to obstacles in the process of inhalation-exhalation."

However, there are many myths surrounding snoring which is a very common problem. To sleep better one must get rid of the myths that surround snoring and only accept the facts, says Dr Viranchi Oza, BDS as he gives us a lowdown of some stories around snoring:

Myth: Everybody snores, therefore it's normal.

Fact: Snoring is not a normal condition. Labelling it as 'normal' diminishes the seriousness of the condition. Snoring is not just about annoying your partner, it is a sign that the body is struggling to breathe properly during the night. Snoring on a frequent or regular basis has been associated with hypertension and can also be an indication of sleep apnea (pauses in breathing). Sleep apnea sufferers have been reported to have diminished gray cells in their brains, most likely due to the oxygen deprivation of untreated sleep apnea. If left untreated, sleep apnea increases the risk of cardiovascular disease over time. In addition, insufficient sleep affects growth hormone secretion that is linked to obesity. As the amount of hormone secretion decreases, the chance of weight gain increases.

Myth: Snoring only affects the health of the snorer.

Fact: Snoring doesn't just negatively affect the health of the person snoring, but also the health of the person lying next to them in bed. A typical snorer usually produces a noise that averages around 60 decibels (about the level of vacuum cleaner), but with some people this can reach 80 or even 90 decibels (about the level of an average factory). Sleeping with a partner who snores during the night has been shown to increase the blood pressure in the other person, which may be dangerous for their health in the long term. Snoring also causes the partner to have fragmented sleep and lose up to one hour of sleep

every night.

Myth: Snoring comes from the nose, so if I unclog my nose, my snoring will stop.

Fact: Having a stuffy nose can definitely aggravate snoring and sleep apnea, but in it's not the cause. A recent study showed that undergoing nasal surgery for breathing problems cured sleep apnea in only 10% of patients. Snoring vibrations typically come from the soft palate, which is aggravated by having a small jaw and the tongue falling back. It's a complicated relationship between the nose, the soft palate and the tongue.

Myth: I know I don't snore, or have apnea. I am fine.

Fact: Don't ignore your wife when she tells you that your snoring doesn't let her sleep. When a partner snores it is very difficult for the spouse to sleep. There are people who snore excessively and suffer from sleep apnea, but feel absolutely normal. However, snoring increases their risk of getting a heart attack and stroke. The only definitive way to prove that you don't have sleep apnea is by taking a sleep test. Screening questionnaires like the GASP or the Epworth have shown high reliability in identifying patient risk for sleep apnea.

Myth: If I lose weight, I'll cure myself of sleep apnea.

Fact: Sometimes. It's definitely worth trying, but in general, it's very difficult to lose weight if you have sleep apnea. This is because poor sleep aggravates weight gain by increasing your appetite. Once you're sleeping better, it'll be easier to lose weight. This is the one ingredient with many dietary and weight loss programs that's missing or not stressed at all. It's not enough just to tell people to sleep more.

Myth: Health problems such as obesity, diabetes, hypertension and depression have no relation to the amount and quality of a person's sleep.

Fact: More and more scientific studies are showing a correlation between poor quality sleep and insufficient sleep with a variety of diseases. Blood pressure is variable during the sleep cycle, however, interrupted sleep negatively affects the normal variability. Recent studies have shown that nearly 80% cases of hypertension, 60% cases of strokes and 50% cases of heart failures are actually cases of undiagnosed sleep apnea. Research indicates that insufficient sleep impairs the body's ability to use insulin, which can lead to the onset of diabetes. Fragmented sleep can cause a lowered metabolism and increased levels of the hormone Cortisol which results in an increased appetite and a decrease in one's ability to burn calories.

Myth: Daytime sleepiness means a person is not getting enough sleep.

Fact: Do you feel very sleepy even during the day despite the fact that you had a long night of proper sleep? Excessive daytime sleepiness can occur even after a person gets enough sleep. Such sleepiness can be a sign of an underlying medical condition or sleep disorder such as narcolepsy or sleep apnea. Please seek professional medical advice to correctly diagnose the cause of this symptom.

Myth: Getting just one hour less sleep per night than needed will not have any effect on your daytime functioning.

Fact: This lack of sleep may not make you noticeably sleepy during the day. But even if you've got slightly less sleep, it can affect your ability to think properly and respond quickly. It can compromise your cardiovascular health and energy balance as well as the ability to fight infections, particularly if the pattern continues. Lack of sleep has also been associated with road accidents (up to 60% of road accidents involve lack of sleep) and air crashes (Air India Mangalore plane crash in 2010 was due to lack of sleep). Sleeping for less than six hours a night is equivalent to legal levels of alcohol intoxication.

Myth: Sleep apnea occurs only in older, overweight men with big necks.

Fact: Although the stereotypical description does fit people in the extreme end of the spectrum, we now know that even young, thin women that don't snore can have significant obstructive sleep apnea. Sleep apnea begins with jaw structure narrowing and later involves obesity. It's estimated that 90% of women with this condition are not diagnosed. Untreated, it can cause or aggravate weight gain, depression, anxiety, diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, heart attack and stroke.

Myth: Snoring can't be treated.

Fact: Have you given up on your snoring thinking that it cannot be treated? There are many different options for treating snoring.

Some treatment options are rather drastic, possibly requiring surgery or prescription drugs, but prior to exploring such options it would be wise to first seek out alternative treatments. You must visit a sleep specialist to get the right diagnosis.

Myth: Extra sleep at night can cure you of problems with excessive daytime fatigue.

Fact: Not only is the quantity of sleep important but also the quality of sleep. Some people sleep eight-nine hours a night but don't feel well rested as the quality of their sleep is poor. A number of sleep disorders and other medical conditions affect the quality of sleep. Sleeping more won't alleviate the daytime sleepiness these disorders or conditions cause. However, many of these disorders or conditions can be treated effectively with changes in behaviour or with medical therapies.

Myth: Insomnia is characterised only by difficulty in falling asleep.

Fact: There are four symptoms usually associated with insomnia:

- Difficulty falling asleep

- Waking up too early and not being able to get back to sleep

- Frequent awakenings

- Waking up feeling tired and not so fresh

Insomnia can also be a symptom of a sleep disorder or other medical, psychological or psychiatric problems. Sometimes, insomnia can really be a case of undiagnosed sleep apnea.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses

Gendering Woman *******

Beautiful, anatomical part //  Ugly, anatomical part
Natural, pleasurable             //   Burdensome, loathsome
Female Symbolic                //    Femme Symbolic
MALIGNANT                             HEALTHY

fearful, tearful, wretched     //  joyful, hopeful, euphoric,
bereft, wept, grieving          //  embryonic, rapt, relieving
leaving, loss                         //  believing, gain
m a y b e - d e a t h                                            r e - b i r t h
                                                   BI-LATERAL
                                             MASTECTOMIES
Operating Theatre

SURGEON                                         ANAESTHETIST
cleaning/ cutting/ knife/ scalpel   //   doping/ unconscious/ airway
blood / tissue                                 //   hypotension
loss/ damage                                 //   shock
drains                                             //   sinus rhythm
stitches                                           //   pain deadening
tight binding                                 //   reversal drugs
                                    
POST-OPERATIVE
a l i v e                                                a w a k e

draining, bound & stitched               draining, bound & stitched
                                            DRAINED
    ­                                   ~ UNBOUND
                                       -- UNSTITCHED –

Empty chest                                                    Flat Chest
FREEDOM from Disease                               FREEDOM from Dis-ease


© M.L.Emmett

A deep breath—I fill my lungs and close the airway. Submerge my face in a pillow and resolve myself to wait until my lungs burn—I await the pain. My senses screaming, my lungs driving me to let them have the oxygen they so desire—I decline. Funny how I chose that which offers peace to the weary, an item that invites comfort to rob myself of that most archaic means of surviving. I find it interesting how calm I feel while denying myself that which I know I cannot live without. Isn’t it odd how we only become aware of the subtle currents of air that tickle our skin, raising chill bumps where it finds us bare when we deny ourselves its luxury? Luxury. That’s an interesting way to phrase it really—Breathing as a luxury. A gift of power, smug in our abuse and neglect we fail to see what we loose when we breathe. Lying here refusing to give myself life—for that’s what air is really, and breathing is living. I laugh. Oh yes, I find it funny. I catch myself readying to breathe again and I still that notion. Shove it down; subdue it until it is nothing but a stinging memory in my chest. It takes a lot of strength to deny yourself to breathe. But somehow that only drives me to test that strength.
I wonder if I will forget how? Could the muscle memory that pilots such a necessary involuntary act be forgotten? No, of course not. But perhaps the feeling of fresh air full of life could be. Could it? Perhaps not. For even as these words find themselves onto this page I find myself remembering what it feels like to expand my lungs, for the blood to cool as it gathers its fill with oxygen as it travels on its wending cyclical way. I laugh again. The burn begins to spread and I feel my muscles atrophy. Yet they tighten and tense as if under assault, screaming at the atrocity wrought upon them. Though still I refuse to breathe.
I roll away from the pillow, open my face to the still air and feel it tickle as it tries to find a weakness. Denying my lungs for so long I begin to feel my skin breathing. Absorbing oxygen as cellular mitosis continues in spite of my flirtatious dance. Maybe I am just dreaming. I feel the fire subside. As if my body accepts its doom. “No breath for you,” I say. “No easy outs.” And resolve continues.
Amazing how long a person can go without breathing, pushing ever closer to that most primal fear—that of not being able to breathe. But I can. I feel my chest involuntarily expand, demanding the very thing I strenuously withhold. I know by that alone that I can breathe, I can live. But still not once do I begin to inhale the sweetness that I need. I want it now, but the primal is so enticing. After all, it is when we fear that we truly know what it is to live. That’s when we feel life. As if it were a tangible being that we’ve strapped to ourselves so that it won’t escape. I’ve set mine free. I’ve let go. Maybe it will return to me. Maybe it will leave me in my vain attempts to deny myself to continue fickly on to another. But which do it want--Perhaps neither, perhaps something more. Beyond breathing, beyond mere muscle memory, beyond what I cling to. The Pain returns.
I want to breathe. I want to live. I want to feel the rush as all my body awakens and revels in new existence--Rebirth. Its odd how something so ordinary can redefine a person, how something so obviously taken for granted and ignored can make us anew—a Renaissance of living, giving new life to life, helping life live. That’s just funny to say. My chest chuckles--I can’t laugh. I can’t breathe so how could I anyway? I smile. Vanity is alluring. I am vain. I deny that which defines life just to feel alive. Vanity, Luxury, Rebirth, Pain—such is the nature of my breathing, the archaic nature of involuntarily driven muscle memory.
Would I even know how to breathe if it wasn’t burned into the most ancient quadrants of my brain? I don’t even know the part that drives the muscle memory. Perhaps when people die there are a few lingering moments where their lungs contract like the twitching mouth of a decapitated fish, gulping at air to fill dead lungs. Maybe breathing is so primal that it doesn’t end with the rest of the body.
The burn has come. I can feel the fire inside my chest. I welcome its warmth, rubbing my hands over the radiating inferno as if I just came from the dead winter cold without the weathering to block out the chill. The warmth permeates through me. Would breathing feel better than this? Could it? I doubt. Only at the razor edge of life while teetering upon the precipice stealing insecure glances to the other side on the off chance that we may glimpse a greener field do we know what living really is.  So aren’t I living now more so than ever before? Whilst denying myself a breath, aren’t I more aware of what it means to be alive? I laugh. Denying yourself air only leads to an end. No, the end--Death. Yet I appreciate life more so dying than living. I deserve to die. Taking for granted that which is stolen from innocents daily. Innocent? Now that’s a peculiar ideal. They are the same. I wonder if they are aware that they breathe. That’s absurd, of course they are. How could they not be? ******* life, ******* air, but do they know what it means?
I feel my lungs contract again—Pain. That’s all it is now, but why? I know I can breathe, yet I choose not to. Is it the act of forcing myself not to take a fresh breath, or the fact that I have yet to do so that hurts? Maybe it’s because I now know what I’ve been doing all these years. At the brink I realize what it means to live. Was I living before? Yes, but I wasn’t alive. Interesting that, to live without being alive—sounds as if I’m hooked to a load of machines keeping me from decay. That’s all they do really. Awareness, that’s living. Breathing is merely the means. The end is being aware, awakened to the fact that an action which you can’t control is the only thing keeping your head above ground. After all, even when drowning the body wants to breathe.
I open my mouth. I lie to my body. I still fill my lungs with nothing but stubborn desire, desire to delay my breathing. I imagine what it will feel like to take that first breath—a Renaissance of living. I can feel the blood in my veins bubble in anticipation. My body wants to be alive. My heart can’t beat fast enough. Striking a furious pace it pumps my blood through my body spreading life and oxygen to every limb making me light headed and delirious with its purity.
I’ve decided. I’m going to breathe again. I’m going to live. And what’s more, I’m going to be alive.
My mouth still open, my lungs still closed, still screaming, still burning, still tightening in their involuntary way—breathing air that isn’t there, air that they know is there, available to them at their whim. I open my lungs.
I exhale. Now that is interesting. I’ve denied myself the life of breath until my lungs begin to pump out of sheer memory and longing for that which gives them purpose. Denied that which defines life, that which I want—that I need. And I exhale?!? Further delaying what my instinct has told me to take? How is that logical?
Air rushes into my lungs. Funny, I scarce expanded them at all. I feel the life rushing to my fingertips, to my toes, to my ears and eyes—to my kidneys even. I am alive. It’s funny though. Part of me feels like I’ve just died, like I’ve ceased to live. I laugh long and hard, throaty and merry and so brim full of life. I began to live again, became alive at the very instant I ceased to exist. And it is so funny.

I Send my words hurling into your airway like swords
I bite off your tongue with every sharp response my body conjures
I have every witty comeback on speed dial to drill into your spine
The way your gays drilled into mine Pull old pennies from my pockets and throw them into your eyes
So you may not look at me the way you have for so long
You're are barely worth my pennies anyways
Here's a donation to your sorry ***
How about I grasp your neck, at just the right spot, just hard enough, to crush your voice box
To dwindle your air pipe just a little
So you cannot throw those trash comments at anyone else
How about I crack each of your fingers
Push them deep into your pockets
So that you can't feel anything without remembering me
You look at me like a mannequin in the window of your favorite retail store
You try yo put a price on what I'm worth
Maybe you can try me on
Throw me on the floor
Grab another
How about I tattoo my name on your chest
So that you cannot take off another piece of clothing
Take off another girl
Throw them in the floor
And not remember me
You will never throw me on the floor again
For I am permanently burned into your chest
How about I burn off each hair on your body
One at a time let it Sizzle down and sear the skin
Let each tiny poor feel the pain one at a time over and over and over again
Until you are left, raw

This
Is the day I speak back when you catcall me from across the street

Today, I wear nothing.
I strip away the hot heavy
shoes, the tights that constrict
my airway. My underwear, lacy
and uncomfortable and unseen by
everyone but me.
My deepest darkest most sacred secret
is held down
            slipping between my legs is
my moist wet womanhood
not stopped by any obstacle
and you try to touch me there
on my pink love button,
touching it
to understand a different part
of me that you wouldn't have
been able to see otherwise.
I keep it hidden.
it comes out
when they come off


Release

you came to me drunk and looking for love
when before it seemed i had plenty of
suddenly my eyes must have been
mazelike and empty
it falls out of me
so neat and yet so unkemptly
all these bodies in storage
and the coroner sent me
but i can't clean up this mess
i'm only good at disassembly

you cupped my chin in your hands
and begged me tell me what you're thinking
i told you i was staring at the wall
with that smile quickly shrinking
too fast for you to catch it
i felt your breath kiss my neck
as you tried a different approach
with a more subtle effect
i should have explained i need a while
to think before i talk about these things

My memere liked the smell of gasoline, i do too
the tiny shreds of dying nice and slow it pulls from inside of you
and stale cigarettes in mom and pop drugstores
and burying the dead birds, saying it was just time for them to go
explaining that they don't realize they are killing themselves
every time they slam into the glass doors
she loved the seashells welling up from the atlantic
and the waves that held me detained
when she disappeared from shore
the glass that cut, that taste of blood
the stillness of death and linoleum floors and the whining dog
i couldn't fathom how they could all remain

her still skin was first time i noticed
the shifting quality of epidermises cusps so waterlogged
like lotus leaves and flaking logs of driftwood in the ocean
the way it's currents pushed and pulled everything above and below our bodies'
disturbances and submersions of purple i didn't love
i wondered why our bodies couldn't just come back to us
couldn't learn to rigor mort this
still deaths leaves me feeling purposeless
waxy and elastic, with small hairs like the cactus on the windowsill
she said so but i can't convince myself that this is a beautiful thing

when i was young i dreamt of falling down the wooden rungs
of our staircase, screaming in pain in the airway and waiting to be saved
it felt so real, and days later we were pulling over on the side of the highway
when we got the call, saying no one was there when she had the fall
when i saw the sunset from the beach for the first time in years
that night i cried for the beauty and
washed off the tears, purple and red clouds
salt water and tender sounds
and stared for a long time
at the empty shell of a horseshoe crab
did not eat the poison berries
removed the glass from my feet
set down the photographs in defeat
sat and read the dusty books
still caked in her fingerprints
sitting on the shelves of the library

and he never liked gasoline
he always liked fresh air and talkative people
the little things, and the adrenaline of strings
the 4 am sunrise over town center's church steeple
i was terrified of loving this good person
this aversion confuses me,
i teeth at these pseudonyms for something so real
being turned into something transient
i can't explain it i just hate dominance
and love hurt children

i still see his face like it was yesterday
saying that it was his birthday, and he was smiling
about going to the lake
i still can't retrieve a single date
last year from the months of august to may
i just remember the pictures and google pages
i would read 1 through 25 internally enraged
by this rememberance of you
my fists clenched in a faded grip
feeling the searing headlines
cutting through the blackness
i forget what it's like
not to lose it all every time
i close my eyelids
and the waves i love creep in and rip
i've just conceptualized it to be a pattern
and accepted it

They tell me to stop remembering
But they don’t understand with
Each blow life hands me
Another is already sewn
Into my ribcage, bruises in each hand
between each crescent bone,
this isn’t a coincidence
Most nights i hang my lungs
Dangling from my spine
Watching the walls cave in
the sticky residue of surgical tape
Strapped around my bicep
Will not wash off in the shower and then
This guilt will not wash off in the shower
and then, you are a burden, hidden
In the paperwork, between the lines
Three weeks later and there is still
Traces of it on me
Parts of me trapped in glass vials
i wonder what people thought
when they saw me in that blue robe
on the bed in the little blue room
I still remember how thick the
needle was
I was never scared of them
until now

i trick people when i feel like
i'm not seeing at all
i'm just feeling, not healing
with these words
that's my downfall
i wish i could give more
but this is all i have left
if i can't keep it locked in closet doors
i know the effect with be my last theft
don't force it out of me
just let the drainage catch your crests
let it come in time
when i feel safe knowing you
would catch my conjested confessions
and lay them to rest

"A mended brain, and heart, and soul are all fine. But being stolen away in the night by new, soft, and clawing hands makes the stitching break. And when you wake up you find that you were never fixed in the first place.” ~ Jade Day


SCENE ONE

[All is black. Strobe lights of various colors flashed throughout the land. A mysterious woman casts an atrocious glare as she is passing by. She had dark brown shoulder length hair, hazel eyes and french vanilla colored skin. She was wearing a jet black dress. Her left hand was slightly moving around in a circular motion as a gesture of guided conversation. Her hand then gradually descended just below her waistline.]

DO: AAAHHH!!!!

[Do woke up doused within sweat and heavily panting. Spore and Gum came running into Do and Sweat’s room to check on Do.]

GUM: What’s going on, Do?

SPORE: Yeah, we heard you screaming from across the room.

DO: I’m fine… I-i… I just keep having nightmares and they won’t go away.

SPORE: What happened in this nightmare?

GUM: Yes, tell us Do.

DO: I do not wish to speak much of it at the moment, but all I will say is that a strange, mysterious woman keeps appearing in my dreams.

GUM: Who is she?

SPORE: Gum let’s not hassle him.

DO: I can’t remember her name at the moment. All I can remember is an incident happening that shouldn’t have.

SPORE: It’s okay, Do. You can tell us more about it as you start to fully remember what happened.

DO: Yeah, I suppose you are right.

GUM: What do you guys say we head down to the cafeteria? It’s 6:00 am and breakfast starts in half an hour.

DO: That actually sounds really good right now. I’m totally down.

SPORE: Yeah, I’m a bit hungry myself. What about Sweat? I mean he’s still sleeping.

GUM: Sweat has always been a deep sleeper.

SPORE: How would you know?

GUM: Because he’s my friend but thanks for implying that I’m a ****.

SPORE: I’m sorry but weren’t you the one who had an infamous reputation for random hookups?

GUM: That was a long time ago, Spore. I don’t do it as often as I used to.

SPORE: But you still do

GUM: Of course. Everyone needs some good, fun, casual *** every now and then.

DO: Guys can we talk about this later? It’s too early for this *******.

SPORE: We’re sorry, Do.

GUM: Yes, we don’t know what came over us.

DO: Look it’s okay. I’m over it. It happens to the best of us. Let’s just get going shall we.

SPORE: Great! I’m going to go take a shower and brush my teeth.

GUM: I call second.

DO: Actually, Gum you can use our shower. It will speed up things up a bit.

GUM: Oh yeah. You’re totally right.

[Do chuckles. Gum smiles back in response as she heads to the bathroom. Gum had bubblegum pink hair, bubblegum pink eyes and creamy white skin. Do leans over and gently shakes Sweat awake.]

DO: Sweat! Come on buddy wake up! Breakfast is starting soon and the gang wants to grab a bite to eat.

[Sweat slowly turns over yawning while rubbing the tiredness from his eyes.]

SWEAT: Ok, ok I’m up. What are they having for breakfast today?

DO: None of us know yet until we get down there.

SWEAT: Well what are we waiting for? Let’s get movin’!

DO: We will. Just waiting on the girls to get out of the showers so that we can do the same.



20 MINUTES LATER…

GUM: The guys should be dressed by now don’t you think?

SPORE: Let them take their time, Gum. Breakfast ends at 10:30. There is plenty to go around.

[Do and Sweat enter the room fully dressed and ready to go. Do was wearing a white long sleeve shirt, white jeans and white shoes. Sweat was wearing an outfit of an identical nature.]

SPORE: You guys both look very handsome and acceptable.

GUM: Yes! Yes! You guys look marvelous! Can we go now?

SPORE: I don’t know. Are you guys ready?

DO: Well, I know I’m ready. What about you Sweat?

SWEAT: Been ready.

[Do, Spore, Gum and Sweat make their way towards the door.]

DO: Oh, and Spore?

SPORE: Yes, Do.

DO: How far has life taken you by being acceptable?

[Spore looks at Do with a very confused ****** expression.]

DO: Exactly.

[Do, Spore, Gum and Sweat exit the room.]


SCENE TWO


[Do, Spore, Gum and Sweat exit the elevator and make their way to the cafeteria. They enter the line and patiently wait to order their food.]

SPORE: By the way, Do all food is free at the asylum on Saturdays and Sundays for those who don’t have a registered meal plan.

DO: Thank you for the heads up Spore. Remind me to sign up for a meal plan later.

SPORE: I won’t forget.

[Spore and Do smile at each other. It is now Spore’s turn to order.]

BREAKFAST LADY: Welcome to Black Wick Asylum For The Mentally Insane. For breakfast we are serving Pancakes and waffles with your choice of 3 sides. Your choices are eggs, bacon and biscuits with brown and white gravy. We are also serving donuts, bagels and pastries. What can I get for you today?

SPORE: I think I’ll have three waffles and three biscuits covered in white gravy. Also, I’d like a donut.

BREAKFAST LADY: What kind of donut would you like?

SPORE: What kind of donuts do you have?

BREAKFAST LADY: Sprinkled, glazed, powdered, cake, jelly filling, red velvet, chocolate covered, etc…

SPORE: I think I’ll take the jelly-filled donut.

BREAKFAST LADY: What kind of jelly do you want?

SPORE: Blue raspberry.

BREAKFAST LADY: Anything to drink?

SPORE: Orange juice, please.

BREAKFAST LADY: And what can I get for you three?

[The breakfast lady began looking at Do, Sweat & Gum as she eagerly awaited their response. Gum decides to place her order first.]

GUM: I think I’ll have a short stack of red velvet pancakes, a couple of blackberry jelly-filled donuts and four scrambled eggs please.

BREAKFAST LADY: Ok and what would you like to drink?

GUM: A cup of tea would be nice.

[Gum lightly smiles at the breakfast lady as she says this then continues walking forward in the line. The lady points to Do and Sweat signaling them to come and place their orders.]

DO: I’ll take a full stack of buttermilk pancakes, two poached eggs, and a bagel with tea.

BREAKFAST LADY: Ok. What about you sir? What would you like?

SWEAT: Yeah, I’ll have two waffles, two biscuits, two fried eggs, two strips of bacon and a cup of coffee

BREAKFAST LADY: Will that be all?

SWEAT: Yes.

BREAKFAST LADY: Ok if you will please move to the end of the line your food and beverages will be placed through the delivery compartment next to the condiments.

[Do, Spore, Gum and Sweat move to the end of the line to get their food and finish preparing their beverages. The four of them then leave the condiment area and begin seeking a table to sit at. Eventually they find a table and comfortably take their seats.]

GUM: You know guys I was thinking. We have two weeks until the grand opening of Hyper.*** right? Maybe we should use some of that time to go and shop for some club appropriate attire.

SPORE: Maybe you’re right, Gum. I mean look at us. Do you really think anyone in the club is going to want to be seen with us if we walk in there wearing this?

DO: No.

SWEAT: Hell no.

SPORE: What did you have in mind Gum?

GUM: It’s not about what I have in mind. It’s about what you feel. Your outfit should project your emotions.

SPORE: Say now that’s pretty deep, Gum. Thank you.

DO: I think this is a good idea, Gum. We should do that. I mean what’s the worst that could happen? Besides I am tired of wearing these boring *** white clothes. Gotta love uniform policies.

SWEAT: Yeah, we are beyond the level of comprehension that these idiots cater to.

[Do, Spore, Gum and Sweat begin to chuckle together.]

SWEAT: So where are you thinking about shopping, Gum?

GUM: Well, actually, there is this clothing store a couple of blocks from here called UP. They are the premier shop for all things party wear. We should be able to get what we need from there.

DO: When do we leave?

GUM: As soon as possible.



SCENE THREE


TWO WEEKS LATER…

[Do, Spore, Gum and Sweat arrive UP in cab. The four of them get out of the cab and begin walking towards the store. It had a glowing neon blue sign with the word UP in big white letters. The sign also had white equalizers on both sides of its logo. The store had a clear exterior that allowed customers to see directly through the store.]

DO: This store looks fairly interesting, Gum. I like the look of it and what it seemingly appears to represent.

SWEAT: I definitely agree with you on that bro.

SPORE: I have an idea guys. How about we go inside?

SWEAT: Say that is a genius idea, Spore.

[Do and Gum begin laughing as the four of them walked into the store.]

SWEAT: What an exciting new discovery! Upon your death you shall never be forgotten!

SPORE: Ok, Sweat. That’s enough.

GUM: Yeah, Sweat. We get it.

SWEAT: Ok. I’m sorry.

[One of the male sales associates spots them and approaches them. He had jet, black hair, blue eyes, and five o’ clock shadow. He was wearing some black slacks along with a cerulean blue shirt with the company logo in the upper right corner of his chest.]

SALES ASSOCIATE: Hello, there and welcome to UP! My name is Zane. How may I help you today?

GUM: Yes, we have come to shop for and possibly purchase some night club and/or party attire.

[Spore pointed at Gum.]

SPORE: It was her idea.

GUM: To which you agreed.

SALES ASSOCIATE: Clearly. What type of night club and/or party are you going to?

[Do hands the sales associate his business card. He takes it and briefly looks at it.]

SALES ASSOCIATE: Hmm Hyper.*** eh? I’ve been hearing a lot about that new club. It seems like it’s going to be a lot of fun. I just hope the experience lives up to the hype.

DO, SPORE, GUM & SWEAT: We do too.

SALES ASSOCIATE: Do any of you know where it is going to be at? The card doesn’t seem to mention any sort of location.

GUM: What?

SPORE: What in the hell?

DO: Let me see.

[Zane hands the card back to Do. Do grabs it and starts frantically scanning the card.]

Do: Good eye, Zane.

SALES ASSOCIATE: Thanks man. Okay guys follow me. I think we may have what you are looking for.

[Do, Spore, Gum and Sweat follow Zane to the back of the store. There was a small blue sign hanging over the isle. The sign said “Casual/Blend’.

SALES ASSOCIATE: This area consists of our casual and blended clothing. The kind of clothing that we place in this area is specifically designed for party-goers who are new to the scene. Now since you all seem to be ill-informed of your club’s whereabouts, I thought this selection and style of clothing would be perfectly fitting for you.

GUM: Thank you, Zane

SALES ASSOCIATE: No problem. If you need anything else I will be at the front of the store.

DO, SPORE, GUM & SWEAT: Thank you!

[Do, Spore, Gum and Sweat continue to browse through the clothing for the next five minutes.]

GUM: Okay guys I think I have found what I like. This pink tank top and skirt along with these white high heels. I think they would look fabulous.

SPORE: That’s great, Gum.

GUM: Have any of you found anything you like?

DO: Well I saw some solid black t-shirts, jeans and sneakers that I like. I also saw a black fedora and some aviator shades that I really like.

SWEAT: I think I’ll just wear one of their generic company logo shirts with some blue denim jeans. I saw that they were selling some on clearance.

SPORE: I think I’ll go for that baby green dress and black sneakers that I saw.

GUM: That’s great. I guess we are all set then.

SWEAT: Yeah, I think so too

[Do takes out out his business card again and briefly glances at it.]

DO: You know I just can’t believe that those girls invited us to a club without informing us of its location. I mean how are we supposed to find it? How are we supposed to get there?

ALICE: By private jet

ANNA: To Switzerland

ALICE & ANNA: One way.

[Do turned around really fast appearing to be in a state of confusion. Alice and Anna were standing behind him with blue bags in their hands. Alice was wearing a plum purple dress, purple framed sunglasses with black lenses and purple sneakers. Anna was wearing an electric red dress red framed sunglasses and red sneakers to match the electric red highlights in her hair. ]

DO: Alice? Anna? What are you doing here?

ALICE: We’re here to shop silly.

ANNA: Yeah, we know the club scene like the back of our hand.

GUM: So do I.

ALICE: Excellent.

SPORE: What part of Switzerland?

ANNA: Zurich

ALICE: It is a neighboring country to France.

ANNA: Don’t worry we’ll have you back by tomorrow afternoon.

ALICE: Remember the grand opening of club Hyper.*** is in two days.

ANNA: Our plane leaves Friday morning at 10:00 a.m. sharp. We will be flying first class.

ALICE: You are to meet us there at approximately 9:00 a.m.

ANNA: And not a minute later.

ALICE: Be there or be square.

SALES ASSOCIATE: Bye ladies!

ALICE & ANNA: BYE ZANE!!!

[They wave at Zane as they are walking out of the door. Zane turns around and looks at Do, Spore, Gum and Sweat.]

SALES ASSOCIATE: You guys ready to pay?


SCENE FOUR


24 HOURS LATER…

[It is now 8:55 a.m. and Do, Spore, Gum and Sweat are only just arriving at the airport. The four of them walk into the airport where they are greeted by Alice and Anna.]

ALICE: Bonjour! Il est si agréable pour nous d'être à nouveau réunis!

ANNA: Oui, c'était très agréable d'avoir couru dans les quatre d'entre vous hier! Avez-vous les gars obtenez assez de repos?

DO: J'ai dormi comme un bébé.

ANNA: Bon, je suis content.

GUM: Will we be needing plane tickets?

ALICE: Not at all. You are flying via our private jet. A ticket is not needed.

ANNA: By the way how old are you all?

DO: 23

SPORE: 21

GUM: 25

SWEAT: 26

ALICE: Great. Then you all are old enough to drink then.

ANNA: We serve but only the finest liquor and wine aboard our jet. I think you’d enjoy our selection immensely.

SPORE: Do you guys also serve chocolate?

ALICE: Yes, we do.

GUM: What about meals?

ANNA: Of course.

DO: Good.

ALICE: Told you we’d take care of you.

ANNA: We weren’t kidding.

[Spore glances at her watch to check the time.]

SPORE:  Anyway, it is coming to 10:00 now. Shouldn’t we be leaving?

[Alice and Anna glance at their phones.]

ALICE: Oh my! You guys are right. It is now 9:55 a.m.

ANNA: Well I guess we had better get going if we want to make it to the event on time.

ALICE: Yes, so we should.

ANNA: Alright, kids follow us outside to the jet.

[Do, Spore, Gum and Sweat follow Alice and Anna outside the airport. A big, white jet was sitting just across from the airway.]

ALICE: Well, what are you waiting for? Come aboard!

ANNA: Yeah, don’t be such a loser. Come on! Come aboard all of you!

[Do, Spore, Gum and Sweat climb aboard the jet. A tall, muscular butler approaches them. He had a dark, brown afro, dark brown eyes, and golden brown skin.]

BUTLER: Hello, there young lads! My name is Owen.

[Owen gently grabs both Gum and Spore’s hands simultaneously as he planted a soft kiss on the backs of their palms.]

BUTLER: I was informed that the four of you would be flying first class today, correct?

GUM: Yes, that is correct, Owen.

BUTLER: May I escort you to your seats?

GUM: Yes, you may kind one.

SPORE: Please never hesitate to ask.

[Gum and Spore let out a few really **** giggles.]

BUTLER: Right this way.

[Owen escorts Do, Spore, Gum and Sweat to their seats. The four of them take their seats and begin to relax.]

BUTLER: What can I get you guys to drink?

GUM: Do you have strawberry wine?

BUTLER: Yes, ma’am. I believe we do have that.

GUM: Could you get me a glass of that please?

BUTLER: Yes, of course. Is there anything I can get for the rest of you lads?

SPORE: I’ll have a blue raspberry soda.

DO: I’d also like a blue raspberry soda.

[Spore looked at Do with a wide grin on her face as she began to blush. Do returned the expression.]

BUTLER: Ok I’ll have your drinks out straight away.

DO, SPORE, GUM & SWEAT: THANK YOU, OWEN!

BUTLER: You’re welcome!

[Owen turns around and walks straight to the cockpit, types in the security access code. The door to the cockpit opens. Owen walks right in and closes the door. He then puts his hands over his face and aggressively clenches and pulls the skin off of his face baring a the face of a beautiful female. This female then removed a hair net from her head revealing jet, black shoulder length hair. She also had winter blue eyes, and black lipstick.]

NURSE YUCKI: The kids totally bough

I sat inside a hospital bay
in the usual uncomfortable hospital beds
feeling exposed....and cold
as they brought in a woman
who was convulsing...
my fears shifted

She was on a moving stretcher
there must have been 12 people in tow
doctors nurses and others
It's hard to remember who was straddling her chest
as they pushed the rollaway gurney
trying to revive her
I think it was an EMT..
remember his sturdy legs in dark Navy pants &  shirt with some
sort of medical cross in white
above his heart...
I just really remember this look
of sheer panic on his face

From the amount of police officers
and security guards
I could only surmise that she
was in some kind of other trouble
than just her physical distress.

At the time I was having some difficulties
with my heart and this situation did not make it any better.
I kind of felt like I was having a serious panic attack...
or that I might even have a heart attack
I really hadn't heard anything about my own condition...or cause

I just tried to breathe
the sounds around me
of machines beeping and voices yelling
so many lights flashing
the doctor pounded on her chest
...literally
trying put a tube in her throat...
attempting to force open lips that remained sealed
I felt like they were  
trying to push that airway in me....

as they worked on her behind that curtain
like The Wizard of Oz
I really couldn't see
they were trying to get a line
her veins too thin and collapsed
the sound of drilling her bone....
in her thigh...
I cupped my ears
as the tears rolled from our eyes
unable to get the medicine in any other way
I had never heard of such a method
I really wasn't eavesdropping
but I was completely drawn in

Narcon I think that's what it was called ...
that's the medicine they gave her.
Apparently it can bring you back
from the brink of death....
I was grateful that they had it for her.

As it turns out she was holding some drugs in the prison for a controlling cellmate
It was coercion and extortion
This so-called drug dealing badass chick
who made her hold the drugs
knew she had money on the outside
and dearly made her pay for it
from the sounds of it
the girl bedside me knew that she was going to be caught with whatever she had been forced to hold...
she was trying to roll a joint in the bathroom...
innocent enough for Prison
when she heard a couple guards talking and coming
it seemed this ...getting caught,
each pill a seperate offense
would be a worse offense than death ...
I thought...for her
So she swallowed an entire wax encapsulated ball of pills
Barely able to choke it down....
knowing it had been brought in by a mule
desperation won

As she slowly stopped convulsing and became dimly awakened
somewhat, aware.... felt like we all finally started to breathe
Nurses and others applauded...relief veiled the room

She was up....then WAY up
I guess you would say she was high
From the drugs and from being out of the prison I suspect

She was scared and crying and my heart went out to her.
She was confused and rambling
unsure of all the different pills inside the Wax Ball trying to recount
asking if she was going to die
Begging not to
to the doctors ...the officers as they were asking her "what did you take honey...come on?"
Over and over....looking in her eyes with a flashlight... as her spirit tried to fade but her body and soul just would not let her go yet.

After a bit of time she started to be more coherent and my heart started to feel less like it was going to burst.

I was so upset by the turn of events
that I really wanted to move to another room  
my nerves were just so terrible
  but the nurse said that people were literally lined up in the hallways .
She asked if I'd prefer that in a snarky tone... I said "no, of course not"

I asked for help  to unplug my equipment
then I went to the bathroom
our eyes met ...hers and mine
for a moment...a quick glance
of some mutual pain and understanding
and we smiled at one another.
I don't think it was difficult
for either one of us
I was looking for an escape to go to the bathroom
from my pain and problems
and get away from this mess
this noise
and she definitely was looking for a way out of her situation
we found calm and comfort in sharing...connecting

She wasn't young enough to be my daughter ...
I think she might have been about 36 or 37
but I thought about that possibility....
she had no family there
and that made me sad
I too was alone
I believe she knew
that I had compassion and true empathy for her
I saw that in her kind and sad blue grey eyes
and I think she saw that in mine....or I hope so

She was not formally educated
but she was quite intelligent and articulate....
She was quite proud of her studies while doing time....
she had a wonderful plan and how she was going to get her children back and a job as a hair stylist.
She had long golden strawberry wheat colored hair

She told how she had been in prison for 7 years away from her children... drugs that got her into Prison and drugs brought her to this Hospital this night

She told over and over
the story of this controlling cellmate
and how this whole turn of events that happened.
All because of drugs mostly.... she owned it
she knew that she used drugs to escape her life before  
and she had taken so many wrong turns
the last charges she received were for "walking off"
from house arrest... she ran... with nowhere to really run.
Now there was this...

She was friendly with the guards
they knew her well and most of them treated her decently,
calling her by her last name only
The one guard was constantly by her side and joking,
reassuring her that she would be fine.
Well there was another guard who was not so friendly,
when she was convulsing he had a smile on his face...
chuckling even....maybe out of fear...
I hoped that.... more than hate
It troubled me in ways I can't really describe.
I think he thought she deserved it.
Maybe there's others that might read this
that might think the same thing...
I do not know.

For me....I don't know her whole truth...her story...
..and I don't know how she got there
I don't know what her childhood was like
or even her young adulthood before she ended up there... I know the complexities of my own life
and except for the broken shattered pieces that she started to share
I don't know what happened in that prison either ....
not really
and my Father told us that
we should love everyone unconditionally
and so that's how I practice and live my life.

You could see her deep sadness and true regret ...
in the lines on her face
yet I also saw hope.. in her eyes and I heard it in her voice

The hours that she spent there were like heaven to her.
She got drinks and food that she would not get in prison...company of new people and a chance to feel normal whatever she perceives normal to be

she laughed nervously with the guards but I could tell that she was sort of excited to be out.
Maybe she took the drugs just so she could get out and breathe the air for just a moment.
I wondered about all the motives one might have
She said that it was because she felt she was going to get caught
but as the story went on ....
she further detailed
after the guards came into the bathroom
and found nothing
she went back and sat at a table with a few other cellmates
and waited to see what was going to happen
maybe she didn't think the drugs would seep through the wax
Or maybe they would have a slow delivery and she would just be high again
or maybe she did know
I don't think she wanted to die but just desperately wanted out
She knew that this badass chick
was going to want money for those pills
she had asked to be moved back to Delta
where she liked it....
she said she was clean there
Apparently she complained over and over and even told them what this girl was doing
She told them that she was going to be a victim in this new unit
she did not want to be there
no one was listening

I was still lying in the bed when they finally strapped her in and decided to take her back to the prison
I was kind of sad to see her go to be honest
because she wasn't completely stable
Physically or emotionally
And I don't really think she belongs there
I guess they don't worry so much about prisoners
And as she left
she had this look of longing that she wished she could trade places with me and she didn't even know what was wrong
that I was there for something wrong with my heart
I think even if it was cancer she would have traded

We again exchanged warm smiles again, an acknowledging nod
and we both added a small wave...
I think knowing
we would probably never really see each other again

My friend who had been absent
Who finally decided to come
and see how I was doing
said "do you know that girl?" and I said "no I don't we haven't even talked." I think he was puzzled....

Actually we both were there with something wrong with our hearts...
and I will probably never forget her face
I will pray for her, her families and her children
her children's children
that they can break the cycle of abuse, dysfunction and unhappiness
I am 100% certain that it's possible
I've done it in my own life
and my family's life
though some things are not always so probable

I wish it was contagious...
that she could have caught it there at the hospital but it's really something you have to dig deep to find
You have to want it more than living
More than dying
I'm not sure we ever find our ideal life or blissful happiness...
Most of us endure a lot of suffering
I have let it grip me before
though I am satisfied with being content
in my life... grateful in every moment
anything more really is a true blessing

So upon reflection
I guess again it just helped me to reinforce that every single part of life cannot be taken for granted.
The air that we breathe
the food that we eat
the music that we listen to
and dance to
the kind smile of a stranger
in a hospital bed next to you
a sad poetic story
Or one of Hope
Being able to drive to the store or walk home if you would rather
Sharing time with your family and friends and everything else it's beautiful in the world.
If I ever think my life is too much
just so bad
I always try to think about those who have it so much worse than I do
Although sometimes if I do that it's too much to bare
To think of genocide and children starving
Even if I only have a few dollars sometimes

I do this not only to gain insight ...review hindsight and if I'm lucky have some foresight in my future
or to protect myself from those potential tragedies happening in my life or in my family's life....

it is more about the fact
that I need
WE....need
to be aware
all the time
the people around us are suffering
and there are little things we can do to make their days better like those smiles and the wave we shared....

I carry her smile with me and I hope she carries mine with her.
I was really pretty scared but somehow that smile and wave was comforting and I hope it comforted her too.
The irony was that she was due to get out within a couple months so I again pondered whether she was institutionalized and wanted to actually stay.
I hope not though because she seemed so kind and so optimistic under such distressing circumstances.
If she had to stay I'm glad she had a moment to breathe the air outside her Prison Walls again even if it was just for a moment
And I sure hope she got the hell away
from that bad *** chick
who just wanted to bring her down

Cherie Nolan © 2016

As she is Feeling worthy,
She takes the journey
With Eyes wide shut; in truth ever so blindly
Embracing her spirituality Divinely

She Rises As Peek of the Day At High Noon
She’s In tune
Like the Sun in rotation to the 28 phases of the moon
She’s in tune as summer in the month of June
Just as a flower in its fullest bloom
She’s in tune
As the skin embracing the molecules of perfume
She’s in tune
Just as a baby in the mother’s Womb
Just waiting to be born soon
She’s uses Art of Divination
Shes sees Life/God in all of Creation
She self heals through crystals, spiritual baths and mediation
Her Aura is that of roses, poetry, and galaxies
She pulls one in with her defiant rules of gravity
Draws one closer with her celestial cavity
She’s cosmic candy
Some may say They call her the Milky Way Because around her even the stars feel safe enough to come out and play
She’s a whole vibe,  the rhythm of reggae
She’s life one breathes into their airway
She’s paradise’s secret highway
She’s Cosmic Candy
She’s As beautiful as watching the chaotic grace of a Star burst  to me
Her spirit is wild and free as the unknown depths of the sea
Speaking aesthetically,
she is truth So heavenly
She is Cosmic Candy

soft fall,
empty love notes

she cursed at her cursive writing, it having absolutely nothing to do with how horrible she (thought) she was. Her fingers ached as she cracked her knuckles. She was such a perfectionist, seeing everything but perfection in her eyes. Plants came alive when they saw and thought
of her. She was the earth and it, her.

Everyone tried their best to enjoy her while they could. While she lasted.

Today someone laryngospasmed and dropped to 65%
Before I opened their airway
Last week, same thing, except 55%

I’m finding myself increasingly dispassionate and unconcerned during these episodes
Externally it would appear
I’m skating by
Skin of my teeth
Brushing off increased agitation by the OR staff
Watching the patient’s life bouncing on the roulette wheel as I tilt the table
........Come on red ................

But it’s not like that. I have a plan. Always a backup. Tertiary options.
A, B,C, and [God forbid] D.
So far, C and beyond is unknown territory.
I’m concerned with my confidence. Too much?

There is not a single solitary sound
in the apartment under the airway

until the booming rush of departure
fills the little walls with great noise

all at once the whole world trembles
and so quickly to silence I'll return.

I know.
I know it feels like your body is disintegrating,
How it aches in places you didn't even know existed;
That you want nothing more than to rid yourself of this skin that burns with loss in every fragile movement.
Your heart and mind are betraying you.
Bones incapable of carrying around this
Palpable heartbreak.
The infrastructure
Of everything you had carefully built
Shattered beneath your feet.
I know it seems like the walls are closing in,
Cornering you,
Suffocating every airway
Until you cannot see tomorrow through the darkness.

Darling
Be patient,
I promise you'll find seeds of recovery amongst the rubble -
Your stems of self worth were never rooted
in anyone's actions but your own,
Your flowers never fed by anything but love for yourself.
Your crushed spirit will break through
These confines of hopelessness
To blossom, once more.
Nurture your growth
And protect it like a diamond;
Cover it in gold.
For you will never own anything more precious than this existence.
You have all the minerals you have ever needed
right there inside of you,
Blood flowing like lava,
Fire burning through your veins since the day that you were born,
Strength emanating from your core.

I know.
I know you're struggling to find the light
But in this darkness you begin your healing.
Remember all that you are
And all that you have been through.
You are loved in ways you can't even imagine
And will grow to love, once more.

Darling
Be patient,
For you are as tenacious as the sun,
And every sun will rise again.

I
When you write down the word
"love," in a poem,
You say bigot words
like you are bigger than words.
Here comes the chest puff.

II
How is any body
or anything we make
like Frankenstein, bigger than words
Brothers say "permanent" like they say
"forever.”
That pervert stutter , let out with lust; they
taste their own wet
lipstick if it's Lutheran.  
Face paint for Hindu.  Making up rules
Because thems the rules.  

III.
After the second war
Frank Lloyd Wright built
houses for the young
men in uniform, well pressed by the years
we hardly mention
all of the flesh he has carved from the world.
Inconsequential, once they were dead
He is not remembering right
away, A live delay 
Remembers watching dad
On thanksgiving with the turkey and his knife
And thinks of stuffed gravy
When he has those dreams about drowning in the stomach guts.

IV
Infinity is a math, a faith
based on faith in numbers
to be counted, up and on
this is the fail safe city
and I can’t count past 100 without
losing count, every time
like god, I mean dad, I mean  

Space is the final front in the god game
you can sling it for pieces
And let them see light themselves
Make it new hell
An empty everywhere.
Not even, not odd.
The Repeating Integer heart.

V.
If you make it you broke it
already,when it mattered;
now it floats.
It’s a witch It’s a witch
Someone tell her she’s water
There's a pile of disowned sons
and daughters who watch Slavery **** on their laptops
every night in another pile.
Off the record, recording it, on the record
it skips where I need it
Living in filth.  Living here, in our own Dump.
Family dump and Feed hall.
The Dump is the one
Who lives on, and is our legacy,

A house that would be a house for just anyone
is a **** with a ******* for a father
And a father figure for lover type.
All the things we think we put time into
Are not containers and we don’t skew time
We barely keep track.  

VI
If you can be vague,
I can be vaguest, I guess
I could be some sort of zeitgeist and live
at that bus stop with the clock
in the corner. The one by the guy
with half his ****
out and that clock, metronome too quiet
to rock.  
This clock
which is just a clock, which is just a tool. Which means it was made for one
thing We made it.
my only sign that I am not from,
but of the time.  Which means I
where we did not
stop to look back for another
bus or Eurdydice soaking
into Hades' airway
because of Love.  She died
toes wrapped round a viper
who said nothing. Words
are the viper, not vague but
the death.  

VII
When you read aloud
and say
Love - without implied eyes
that roll, like dead do in the graves
you make everyone down there wish
for a bigger box
or viper.

When you start a line
without busting
out it starts like the middle of a stop
Not stopping, stopped.

My sister Annick fixed me, locked me in, with cold, blue eyes as she sat down slowly next to me at the table. “I’m a surgeon,” she said, not quite casually, “a board certified surgeon.”

I give her a questioning look.

“I could take your steak knife,” she says, eyeing it, “plunge it into your neck - and oh, sure, there’d be a question or two but in the end - I’d walk away clean.”

“I don’t think,” I start saying…

Tears well to near overflowing in her turquoise eyes. “I came in - officer” she says, sounding stunned and surreal. “She was having a convulsion, she exhibited severe cyanosis, I couldn’t clear her airway, it was a classic tonic-clonic seizure.” she goes on, her voice rising to near panic with the diagnosis.

“You’d never…” I start to interrupt but she gently covers my mouth with her left hand while gathering the handle of the serrated silver steak knife, expertly, into her right hand.

“I attempted to perform a tracheostomy,” she continues in a traumatized but professional voice. “but as I began a transverse incision above the sternal notch,” a tear rolls down her cheek, “Anais suffered a severe generalized-onset seizure and convulsed, forcefully into the knife”

“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!” I confess suddenly, as if under oath, in court.

There’s a moment of still silence.

“And WHEN,” she asked, wiping away the tear and turning the knife for a downward ******. “Were you going to MENTION IT?!”

“NOW! - before dinner!” I look around the empty room - for help - for a sympathetic jury. “It was an ACCIDENT! - I’m SORRRRYYYY!” I plead.

My sister slowly sets down the knife and says deliberately, purposefully - like a death sentence: “My Valentino sheer floral-lace top is STAINED.”

”I can FIX it!” I insist in a rush.

“Keep OUT of my room - and my stuff.” she grumbles, “And REMEMBER what I said,” she adds as she pats the knife before getting up and leaving the room.

“I WILL’” I promise to her back.

A second later, my mom sweeps in from the opposite direction.
“What’s up” she asks.

“Nothing” I almost whisper, head down.

She disappeared
     what seems like eons;
I miss her everyday.
     Carefree... flamboyant
      reckless and tortured.
She grasped for solitude.

She disappeared
     for who knows how long;
but time is running out.
     Each day grows shorter,
      and I’m no smarter.
I wait for her return.

She disappeared
     from body and soul;
for no apparent reason.
      She flew up...grew up
       and found her airway.
She left me in her wake.

She disappeared
      I wailed and puled;
hey wait, it’s me you flee.
       But the look of her pain
   and the shame in my heart
were really both the same.

She left
and disappeared from sight;
her name scrolled in the sand.
       She disappeared
    and won’t come home,
til carefree days are here.

soft soliloquies cannot touch me
for the mountain tops have blurred in the stratosphere
and still deny their shadows from the fog
and sink like marionette martyrs to the ocean floor
and sway refused forfeit flags painted as seaweed

--

stiff joints acost
and above, an albatross!
roams discreetly through the sky
yet all hell's dead
wretched through molten lead
succumb to false alibi
(and fate's caress never questions why)

--

your
bamboo words
and
tourniquet hands

bear loss of convicted man.

and
piano strings
like
forgotten things

have cost all the contraband.

--

--oh, but sweetly they had fallen
the petals which forgot the sun
and faces the moon while acrobats
form the constellations of the sky

and so— so weakly it had passed us by
but yet had still seen the sails of clouds
adream of every lost sunken shroud
ever shining by.

--

defeat me, hang
a noose from every ceiling
--and maybe i'll change my mind
or faint like festered wounds
trailing down the hallways
--and maybe i'll forget the way
you made me see it
clearer than mirror rooms
and moulded like day
(your lungs full of clay)

breathe me out or
sheathe it in
complete me, hang
an emptied world from every airway
to rust all the ventilations
to flood all the irrigations
and condense into the black hole
you left behind.

--

words called windows walk on sunday lanes
toward sideways tree roots with hallow'd veins
and iced over stairways that have no name

or excretories called inventories that fell on dead ends
or ghouls that catapult just to make amends
then rise from idle tidal waves with the bends

perhaps even holes called souls can confine
and mists like cysts fail to intertwine
and fall away as heaven feigns to maligne.

—and oh, how sullen scenes do compromise
the way our flesh restlessly burns and fies.

Start with:
        Airway, Breathing, Circulation,
        easy as ABC
they said.
        Perhaps they meant
                clear my throat,
                         slow my breathing,
                                        check my pulse.
                              I could have used
                 the advice, but
        there wasn’t time,
for him.
        Perhaps,   no.
               His pleading eyes
               will not fade in time,
                             and his sand soiled body’s
               last electric leap
        seems to hover
        still longer
        with each
        repetition.
        His blue lips
        still murmur
        words
        to me
        from the
        water.

-*BRD

The lies choke me,
constricting my throat with their icy tentacles.
Vines riddled with thorns,
twist and scrape inside my airway.
Blood running down my trachea
pools in my lungs,
Each burbling breath
a disturbing reminder of the webs I've woven.

Five months for a teenage brain is a lifetime to be with someone...add ten more days and that's how long i got to keep you. This isn't second grade you don't get a trophy for merely breathing and that's all i was doing. Breathing you in every second i got until we stopped seeing each other outside of school. I thought i was oxygen deprived but i was only deprived of you. Fought against my gut feeling that i could not keep my promise of forever. I wanted to burn the memories we had in picture frames. To shatter them like i shattered us. I cant walk past you with out the little pieces of my heart aching. I may have been the little spoon but i had the entire world at my fingertips when you were by my side.
The day it officially ended we said We'd keep in touch. That We'd be best of friends but now we don't even say hello. Bad habits have been restarted and **** the nicotine high is so lovely when i think about you..i forget. The head rush and the burn in my throat i think the firefighters told me i had too much smoke in my lungs for it to be just from a fire. So when they took me to the hospital to try and clear my airway not realizing it was the hospital i asked for my one call. And it was to you but i think i had too much nicotine in my ******* veins pumping straight to my brain that i didnt realize when you answered id be ripping off the scabs that were helping you heal

My lungs are burning
And I start to sweat,
Not being able to breathe
Is my biggest threat.
My lungs fill with water,
And my breath gets shallow,
My chest is pounding,
But my heart is hollow.
My pulse is slowing,
And my stress is on the rise,
The pressure inside me is increasing,
As tears gather in my eyes.
My throat starts to shrink,
And my airway begins to close,
I begin to fall unconcious,
And blood drips from my nose.

You were always more like twine,
Wrapping yourself around my neck.

So thin you had seemed innocuous
To my gullible eyes,

But once you had enclosed my airway
I was forsaken to eradicate your embrace.

They say that time is just a metaphor, extra stress humans create
Tell that to the man who’s got a time bomb to deactivate
I think in hours, minutes and seconds, the clock takes control
The minute hand constricting my airway, while the hour hand picks at my soul.
And please don’t let my irrational thoughts push you over the edge,
I could really use a friend, I could really use a friend.

You know, I’ve wanted
to say this for a very long time,
but for a very long time
I haven’t believed that
you’ve been ready to hear it nor
have I been ready to say it.
Three.big.words.
So big my throat can’t store it
can’t keep it together it comes
out in stutters,
I Luh, I Luh, I Luhhhvee Y-yu-you.
this, is the first time.
This is the first I’ve felt
vulnerable and empowered
at the same time.
This time is kind of amazing
This duality inside of me
fighting against one another
My heart choosing sides,
Left and right, ripping me apart
A ****** valentine
a serious war. like,
the Devil and God are Raging Inside of Me,
Yes, this is Brand New. I wrote a ballad
For you, a love song from deep emotions
mixed up making
a ballad that cries out
the howls of true devotion
the secrets never spoken
under the sheets where I lie,
next to your embodied soul
You soft *******.
Let me hold you, let me cast you
under the spell I brewed myself
brewed right here. Right here.
in the place where I actually love you
because I actually love you
in the softest portion of my heart
the most delicate, touchable, stababble
place in my heart
a sensitive baby
crawling into my throat
choking me with the words
the words inside my throat
I’m choking
on a flavored peanut caught
in the wrong tube I am choking
on something so dang sweet,
like sweeter than the 90’s chokers,
Love. Is. A Hard Peanut.

I believe in the like
Maybe some faith in the love.
I spat up the peanut
It left sugar in my mouth
but I spat it out. It was, after all,
Lodging my airway
Constricting my muscles
Suffocating my taste for reality
Organically altering the song
Of my tongue, like I found the tune at Whole Foods.
You Stupid Peanut, of course I found you at Whole Foods
You’re a Genetic Beauty, modified once originally
You hard Peanut
I Love You I Love You I Love You!

There, I said it
With my choking throat
My loving Soul.
My soft heart
I love you, Peanut.

prompt me, if you like
pause me or restore,
fake forward to
another track and time.

please me, if you like
that would be nice,
a gracious game, attach me.

stand with me, if you like
til you feel kinda certain,
in one aspect or another.

do not frame me.  i would not like
your bargaining episode,
neither manipulation, would i ….

rather
beckon me, to another order

mind your ways and self
until pleasure beckons you,
for yourself, not me.

i am in tune to you, or not
in sway and light meanderings of mind.

a series of events may take you
in ways you like, or not, with or
without a hand at your side.

speak with me, if you like
but not drag the solution from me.
you are your own way
if you have a mind to see it.

depart from me, if you like
strength to strength, or fall.
while it breaks my heart to await
your outcome ….
of fortune i will hope.

it sours me beyond belief, in wretchedness
for i fear what could befall you and
grit your stumble.

raise me, if you will
into a prosperous outlook
to meet head on.  

shy away from your
mouth of negativity with words
bound up from invisible torture,
become light in step and airway

if you like, or not.

Riddle in Rhymes,
During Corona Times
By Toxic Detective for Indian Society of Toxicology (IST)
Vomiting is nature's protective reflex against ingested toxins with my bitter alkaloids, accidental by innocent kids,
Bitter is Killer 💀, As a thumb's #rule, in medical science; but most of life saving medications are also bitter 👅, instead;
Vomiting after ingesting me, protects you medically as well as legally, in court of law leads;
Prehistoric #judicial systems determined guilt or innocence in a legal #trial, for human misdeeds;
By subjecting the accused to a dangerous experience, traditionally known as “trial by #ordeal” misusing my seeds;
Whether one survived such an ordeal poison of mine,
was left to control of divine,
to be freed;
and escape or survival was taken to indicate innocence on behalf of the defendant, instead;
The roots of this custom lie in the Code of #Hammurabi and the Code of Ur-Nammu, the oldest known systems of law, reads;
Numerous West African tribes from #Calabar, depended on my toxic bean in jurisprudence, in needs;
Also renowned as ordeal poison or #lie-detector bean, for rulings in their early courts, impledes;
Tribal #Nigerians, misused toxic action of my beans to detect witches & people possessed by evil spirits, who concedes;
#Judicators, would feed numerous seeds, what they called “ordeal poison,” to the accused; if he or she was innocent, indeed;
Hypothetically, God would perform a miracle and allow the accused to live—and the court would have its ruling, proceeds;
If the reverse was true, of course, guilt would be “proven” the moment its sentence was successfully carried out, in recede;
I am a climbing leguminous plant in forests, can be poisonous to humans when chewed, as beads;
I am a large, herbaceous perennial vine, with a woody stem at the base, as natural weeds;
I produces a large, purplish flower with intricate visible veins; attracting innocent Kids;
My flowers yield a thick brown pod of a fruit, contains 2-3 kidney-shaped seeds;
it’s not until rainy season (June through September) that my fatal plant Breeds;
In monsoons, my fruits, capable to produce its best, most toxic beans; indeed;
I am named botanically by appearance of my fruit “a snooping beak-like solid appendage” physo- means “bladder,” at the end of the stigma Beaked;
My toxin is reversible cholinesterase inhibitor, which acts on the autonomic nervous system, leads;
My poison disrupts communication between the nerves and organs of victims, it needs;
In this regard, I acts similarly to nerve gas, which results in contraction of the pupils, recedes;
Profuse salivation, convulsions, seizures, spontaneous urination and defecation, exceeds
Loss of control over the respiratory system, and ultimately death by asphyxiation, as due to secretions, airway blocks & impedes;
Antidote to my poisoning is the slightly less toxic tropane alkaloid atropine, which may often succeeds;
Though myself toxic, my alkaloid proves an effective antidote for poisoning from another deadly plant, Atropa Belladonna seeds;
Guess my name, causing Vomiting, as Lie detector for your means: when an Ordeal poison, impleads;

rainbow curtains that smell of mint

gray sweatshirt my mother sent

suffocating but my airway is clear

where is the voice i want to hear?



i wish someone else could see

the poisonous air of room 11-B

I put my heart to bed.
I kissed the hole in my chest
a lingering good night-

My lips stealing a few
more hours of our final night.

I forgot about the noise
filling spaces in my mind,
held myself to the promise
of never letting go
without a final goodbye.

I let tears fill hollowed eyes,
falling as perfect droplets
tattooing my cheeks
symmetrically.

As I exhale the remains of
all I’ve lost,
I choke.

An inflated balloon
is blocking my airway,
my fingers part my lips
and with another deep breath
my heart – severed but intact –
is in my hands once again.

I put my heart to bed
I kissed the hole in my chest
a lingering goodnight –

My heart didn't want to sleep,
instead it stayed awake
tacked itself to my sleeve
and walked me into a new day.

© Sia Jane