Hurt people hurt people

Where does our pain go after death?
Our love? Our longing?

The Grim Reaper, on her soundless walk across the earth
Where does she put all that remains after death?

After she guides us to oblivion, to eternal quiet
And the evidence of our life remains after us,
Where does it go?

To the sea, to drown itself under the weight of our absence?
To the skies, to float aimlessly among the dead stars?
To the edge of the world where none could ever find it again?

Does she give it to the humans we leave behind?
Broken in grief, grasping for the feeling of our mortem presence
Do we give it to the humans we leave behind?
Engraving our memory into their fingertips
Into the cold kiss of death on our lips as we exhale our last breath, our last words

“Last words are for fools who haven’t said enough”
Those were the last words of a Marxist fool

Spoken at death’s door, their path undetermined
Sinner or saint, undefined, buried all the same

What if she etched our graves instead with a final breath of clarity
One final breath of closure
Relief for all the living left behind who still need to breathe

How many tombstones would read sorrowful ends to ambiguous lives
Too late to repair or understand, only mourn

Strange hosts

I am not the woman I used to be.

She is bruised and broken, as far as can be

I am bruised and broken, numb to the world

I am deep in the heart of longing for myself

Old, new, recognizable, unknown

Different. From what I am today.

She is a stranger

Borrowing my skin to fill her anxious purpose

She sometimes protects, sometimes hurts

Shielding me from pain, filling me with pain

I am a stranger to myself

To levity, to joy

I hope only for a while.

Let me come back

I don’t have much time, she says

I’m only here for a minute

We’re really in it, this time

I’ve only got a moment but I’m hoping it’s enough

I know you hold great sadness

And you think sadness is all you’re made for

Be brave, little one

Chase the joy you so fear

Grab it with all your might and pour it into you

I’m fading but I’ll be back

To remind you

Please let me come back

I’ll tell you the story of the girl who grew up to be a woman

Who was not fearless, but lived alongside fear

Who held such heaviness, such crushing weight

But still searched for the gentle and light

Let me come back and I’ll tell you

How she found it.

You are not broken

I promise you, little girl

You are not broken

Your heart feels broken, shattered into unrecognizable pieces

Your soul is heavy, dragged by your body against its will

Your head hangs low, shoulders carrying the mountain of your pain

The weight of your life is crushing

Crushing your spirit and your will

You are not broken, only suffering

It is not broken to suffer

And suffering is not, should not be, always.

Her

Listen to her

That voice in your head, she is your fiercest protector

Listen to her

She sees your pain, feels the cracks in your heart

She holds your face in her hands, in gentle earnest

Listen to her

She wipes the blood from your eyes, the tears from your soul

She pulls every thread until you are untangled, whole

She kisses the sun into your forehead until you feel warm

Listen to her

She fills you with love, and rage, and kindness, and strength

Until you are complete

Until your bones are steel, though sometimes frail

Until your heart can bend, but no longer break

Listen to her

She may not always know what to do

But she is your warrior

She will fight back when you are stabbed

She will heal when you are broken

And she will grow wings every time the world throws you off a cliff

Listen.

the TV

She didn’t remember how she reached her apartment building, and she didn’t remember how she arrived at her apartment door. She only knew that when she looked down, her keys were in her hands, and when she looked up she saw her crooked door and smelled the vague remnants of her candles through the cracks.  Numb to everything but the cold feel of the handle, she unlocked her door and walked in, the world seeming to move terribly slowly, as though she were underwater.   

            She dropped her keys in the bowl by the door, barely hearing the clink they made.  Then she dropped everything.  Purse, papers, resolve.  She slipped out of her shoes and walked over to the couch, where she sat cross-legged and heavy-hearted.  She blinked slowly, as though when her eyes were closed nothing could matter outside that darkness.  She turned on the TV, to some daytime show where they inserted a laugh track after a character tells a mediocre joke.  It was something about penguins.  And New York.  Or maybe Sydney.  An English man was talking to his friend, telling her about a job, or a woman, somehow it is unclear.  He was comparing his situation to that of a penguin who was found in a big city.  The comparison made no sense.  She was staring right through the screen, another scene playing in her mind over the one playing on TV.  The thoughts in her head mingled with the voices on the screen.  “You have no idea how much it hurts to talk to you about simple things”, the TV shouted.  “It was a baby penguin, right”, it continued.  She turned her head and looked out the window, watching the light dim and the world get darker.  “It’s like you can’t even hear yourself when you talk to me, you can’t hear how mean you are, for no reason at all!”, the screen yelled.  She looked down.  “You don’t understand, I’m telling you it’s the same thing alright, emotions can span across species”.  She brought one of her knees up to her chest, then laid her head back on the couch, breathing deep.  “How can you say that? You have always had such a disrespectful tone when you speak to me, so condescending.  Who do you think you are?”.  She blinked, looking to the left where the mirror hung.  She stared into her reflection.  “Why are you being like this?”, it cried.  “What, you think you’re the only person in the world with shit to do? With a life, with problems?”.  “I mean, really they’re quite a fascinating animal, oddly similar to us, you know?”.  She looked back at the TV.  “What more do you want from me? I don’t understand!”.  Her eyes felt worn out and heavy.  “But the penguins were” – “How could you say that to me!” – “Did you know they mate for life” – “You can’t even look at me because you know you fu-“

She turned the TV off, staring into the silence.            

ocean arms

I tossed and turned and suddenly found myself in the middle of the ocean

I spread my arms, floating in the vast warmth of the water

I took a deep breath and slowly followed the rhythm of the sea, turning to my side

Until I was suddenly on the shore, the tender waves caressing my body,

Gliding over me, under me, all around me, like hands of silk.

I turned again and suddenly I was on an island

The sand enveloped me, held me gently in its arms, warm and firm

The breeze whistled around me, singing soft songs and brushing soft fingers through my hair.

I turned and turned until suddenly, I was in a warm bed, with you

With gentle waves and quiet breathing and nothing else between us.

-   your skin tasted like salt water

Bus Bench Chronicles

He sat on a bus bench, alone, skin and bone and trench coat, and nothing more.  His hair was white and thin, his skin more of the same.  It seemed the light breeze would blow him to dust.  He stood with some difficulty to reveal a recyclable grocery bag in his hand.  A seemingly empty recyclable grocery bag in his hand.  He took something out of his pocket and looked around, perhaps for the bus, perhaps for something else.  He sat down for a time, then shot back up with striking ease.  Though his energy seemed in response to nothing in particular, he appeared to lose it all in a moment and sat down again. Finally, the bus arrived and he stepped in, grabbing a handle and vanishing so smoothly, the downtown air had already filled the space where he sat.   Replaced by another body, as though he were never there at all.  

People who need people

They say people who need people 

Are the luckiest people

In the world

There were footsteps out on the streets, I could hear them pounding against the pavement.

Honking cars, loud human noise. 

I could hear my own, clear in their solitude, loud in their lonely sound.

A shadow dashes across a street light, figureless 

And I think it is my destiny and I follow it.

It leads me to a land of unfulfilled promises and I am lost once more.

I see a light shoot across the alley, colorless

And I think it is my purpose and I follow it. 

It leads me to the place where dreams take a long sleep and again, I am lost.

I hear a noise screaming between graffitied skyscrapers, soundless

And I think it is my calling and I follow it. 

It leads me to a dark tunnel with a rickety train to nowhere, and I am lost still.

Along city-stained brownstones, I taste the smell of possibility and warm bread

And I think it is my home and I follow it. 

It leads me to the cozy window seat where eyes gaze up to infinity, and I wonder if you are here.

I want you to speak, I want you to show me

Show yourself

I want to ask you everything, tell you everything, tell you I’ve found you.

I want to know you 

I want you to know me 

I want

I want

I want

There’s a knock on the door

It’s not you.

always

It was sweet and sour and bitter and loving.

It was painful and hard and absolutely breathtaking.

It was gut-wrenching and toxic and heartbreaking, always.

It was terribly beautiful, and all-consuming, and truly wonderful, wasn’t it?

It was loud, and there were broken pieces of us on the floor, bleeding with love.

It was caring, and there were notes left on the door about late-night plans or early breakfasts.

It was family, and there was so much room for love and fire that both poured out onto the floor, mingling with the blood and shards of glass.

It was beautiful and broken and all we knew, and for a while it was enough.

My eyes were screaming with the heart and hurt that my tears couldn’t shed for you.

Bags packed and at the door, my soul begged, pleaded, cried to stay with you.

But my body drove me to the car, broken heart and all, baggage in tow.

Because I love you, always.

 But,

I don’t very much like you anymore.

How I lost her

How we lost you

How I lost you

I always think of you on sunny days.

I think that you’ve seen how miserable the cold and the ice and the work have made me, and you’ve sent me a little sunshine to help.

I think of you when I go to your house and it smells like food, because it doesn’t smell like your food.

I think of you when the leaves change in the fall, and again when they change in the spring.

I think of you when I think of my mother, and the sliver of light that faded from her eyes after you.  A piece of innocence only you could take.

But the truth is, I think about you less.

Your birthday is etched into my mind, your anniversary engraved in my biological clock.

Your voice is faded, far away.

Your face is blurry, different from the pictures.

They say I have your hands, but even that feels unfamiliar sometimes.

Stories become jumbled up, memories feel unreliable.

The only thing I know for certain is the pain stabbing my heart when I felt you leave, and the way it broke when the phone rang to tell me what I already knew.

I miss you every day.

Sinking, sunken

It all happened as painfully as falling asleep

First, when the trees became silent.

The birds lost their song when you lost your will.

Then, when the earth became grey.

The soil dried out as the fire died in your eyes.

And then, when the wind fell slack.

The air turned stagnant as your skeleton grew motionless.

When the oceans stilled.

The waves were unmoving as your mind fell, lifeless.

As you sit there, sinking, pondering,

Wondering how the rock around your ankle became so heavy

You see yourself walk up to him, make a charming quip and bat your eyelashes, and then

you see it all.

You let him pay every time, even though you insisted it was your turn.

You should have insisted more.

You laugh at his jokes and when you’re down, you cry for him to rescue you

And when you’re not, you insist you’re not the type to be rescued.

You let him yell at you, even though you’d yell right back at anyone else.

But you were wrong that time, weren’t you?

You keep sinking, keep pondering.

You bat your eyelashes and cry for him

You take his help when it comes, and you’re better for it.

Aren’t you?

Sinking and pondering.

You wanted him to see you, to choose you.

You saw him, you smiled at him. 

You bat your eyelashes and cried for him.

You asked for him, for his attention.

You opened the door and invited him in.

You didn’t hear the clanging of the knives he hid behind his back.

Sinking, still sinking.

He made you so happy, he was so good for you, wasn’t he?

He took the pain away, took everything away,

Until there was nothing left and suddenly you realize the pain was him.

Pondering, wondering. 

You invited him in.

You smiled and you bat your eyelashes for his love.

Didn’t you want it? 

Didn’t you want it?

Didn’t you want this?

Your soul, she cried for him.

Begged for his love to fix her broken pieces, but he just stepped around them, sometimes on them.

Your soul, she was on fire for him, because of him.

And without him she sank, extinguishing the whole world, the whole world. 

She sank because now,

Darkness was the universe, and she was her mother.

And you the poor child who watched as she committed matricide.

Sinking, sunken.