me
outflung
I think it’s there
where you die again
almost deprived
from ever feeling
sound, a waiting wave
today, thirty eight years have passed
I’d like my portrait done instead
no suicide attempts
my prognosis is good
I can draw, I can reinvent
I’am checked out, mother
My chart, still lays
I can tolerate your voice
I must assume, this is our fate
I will miss you, when you leave me again
I’ve stopped biting my nails, so lets pretend
Why I would rather you not stay
Watch me
I am one
Spinning
Sentences
A burn
That goes on
For months
For years
Extending
A calcium
A lime
Much too
Fossilized
Mother do you
Do you love me
How I you
how, far, then, I, from, you?
a prozac, a paxil
a rigid blood factor
more ill, more still
a cataract in love
in most, in me
a dignity that provokes
wait around my throat
i am unfit for confessing this
giving you the images only i know
in my dreams you are never more than thirty
uncapping bottles, your mouth so full
your uninvolved breasts tying my ankles into knots
i am forgetting how to trace you
my hunger is subsiding
this frightens me too much
forgiving you without fear of drowning
or fear of being that alone, i am in shallow waters now
saved by a woman carrying a boat
a woman naked to the waist
obeying her scent
rehearsing my birth, quietly and well
I invented it, the pain, the makeshift words, scab causing her desire to hide the word rape.
I write the trailing paths
The non-assembled ones
Where abundance yet remains
Untouched by livers by hearts
Having my own way with sounds
With those who find pleasure in disguise
Nihilistic sometimes better yet perfectly unlined
I insist precisely what she denies
The metaphors
The bodies
The art
With trees growing out of my belly I assault her mouth
Asking to be born again
Into something that forgets
Into an animal with no wisdom
Without drawing my own blood
I will sniff the grounds
Dig past the stones the roots
When I arrive; politely then I will ask for my soul
And here is where I gasp but there is no voice
I am confined by my very own jaw in a place that feels like home
Without medication, certifications
I can draw figs disfigured by thirst
I have seen God
He knows my first name
I write because I must document this stay
