Can I let my words pass through your lips?
The whispers in my head have the exact timbre of your breath.
Will you read my story?
That way I can pretend that it is you all along–
Promising me waves of rose water
That taste like pears
Lingering in my nose-
Turning into memory.
Say the lines I have written
Back to me–
Aloud.
Rise and fall in the places I have drawn.
Quick-quick-pause in the gaps where I return
From the edge of a thought.
Or flow where the letters run on like a pool spilling over the edge meeting the horizon and kissing the sky.
Speak low,
with the depth that I imagine you are taking me,
Of laying in bed at day break as we wipe the sleep from our eyes.
Ah, the fog that forms on your mouth right before you kiss me good morning.
Ah, the puff of last night that stirs as you turn to face me.
Put your hand precisely where I left a gap on my side.
Squeeze your leg through the crevice between my thighs.
Love me-
The way I rehearsed it in my mind since the birth of these thoughts with my coming of age.
You are only a vessel for the love I give myself.
Archive for September, 2021
They said a change was coming
The horde in red pulsated
Like a lava flow of hope:
Ignited.
Viscuous.
Ominous.
It set to fire every object
It came into contact.
It felt like the death that must come
Before a new world is born.
They didn’t mind that the core of this frenzy
Was blood and flesh;
The shattered bones
Of a form of justice
Doled out in drunken conversation-
That isn’t blind
But peers from the corners
Of its soulless eyes.
Ah, the music of anarchy
Was all too sweet.
The romance of a revolution
Was a tantalizing heat
That sucked you in
And shot you into the atmosphere
In an explosion
Of promises and ash.
Do you remember
How you call him “Father”?
How you craved the iron of his fist?
Because you deserved to be punished
You unruly, unworthy,
Unsuspecting son of a bitch.
He lies
Sleeping–
When he should be doing
What you hoped he would do.
And when he wakes,
Like a thief in the night,
Without care for your peaceful slumber,
He foams in the mouth
With a venom
That slowly erodes you from within.
The hope you thought you saw in him
Was not hope he was giving.
It was the hope he stole
The same way he steals from you now.
To set into fire
To burn like the pits of hell
To make deeper and wider his chambers
Until so much magma cannot be held within
He erupts again,
Spewing out evil and destruction,
Leaving behind a trail of death.
The earth shakes
Over and over
And the deafening sound
Of this unholy upheaval is only broken
By the voiceless cries:
The lady Freedom,
And her mother Truth,
Her sister Justice
And the child Peace.
Change did come after all.
But change is a trickster.
It is never what you think it is going to be.
So when next you put your hope on something,
Call out her name:
Liberty.
Let her lead the way.
Last night I went home to my mind,
Put on some gloves
And picked out my favorite
Knife from the kitchen.
*Insert bassline here*
The atmosphere is suddenly a gel
And all my movements seem submerged.
Mouth held tightly,
Eyes resolved,
Chest rising with each deep draw of air.
I make my way into the living room
Where the figure of our conversation
Relaxed itself on the couch,
Expecting another round of refreshments.
How I love the way its smile turned to
Absolute terror.
Grabbing everything it can to prop itself up
And get away from me.
I see it stumble across the floor
While I glide through each newly formed obstacle
As if they were steps on a staircase
Taking me to the climax of this scene.
I raise the knife above my head
Move all the tension from my jaw,
Down my neck,
Around my shoulder,
Through my arm,
To the dagger on my clenched fist.
The metal penetrates it
Like a like a lover for the first time-
The mix of pain and pleasure,
Blood and ecstasy.
Over and over,
Screams turning into moans
Eventually falling silent.
I collapse in resolution,
Covered in the viscous warmth.
*A choir breaks out into religious frenzy*
I look out the window
Towards the clear night sky,
Thankful for the slaughter
Of your anticipated rejection.
I wasn’t gonna scream but you told me I complain too much.
I wasn’t gonna hurt but you told me I flinch too much.
I wasn’t gonna lash out but you told me I squirm too much.
I was stubborn.
I was rotten.
I was mistrusting
You.
You said it was nothing so you didn’t have to care for me.
You said I should be still so you can walk all over me.
You kept me in the dark and then argue that I don’t see
What you claim
What you do for me
What you lie about so
Well.
Well I’m taking back the power you have wrestled away.
Well I’m calling out the bullshit you keep throwing my way.
Well I’m not going to take the blame one more day.
I’m rising up.
I’m striking you down.
I’m setting myself
Free.
Who did it? Are you glad you went out so spectacularly? Or did it happen quietly, surrounded by a close circle, recalling stories until the last breath?
Maybe it doesn’t matter how you got here. You’re dead. It is finished.
What do they remember about the time with you? The times when you were the life of the party? That picture you made that you got slightly off, but they treasure anyway? Was it one of the fantastic stories that could not have happened in real life but did? Ah, how incredibly silly you were.
Do you even know all of these people? Why is she wearing that? Who’s that guy over there? They look so pre-occupied, like they’re not supposed to be here. But it looks like they’re all having fun, despite everything.
Look, they put up all 250 of your profile pictures. Why you gotta look so good like that? Thank goodness you chose to get cremated. That urn looks so Scandinavian.
Great choice on that song:
“Before you cross the street
Take my hand
Life is what happens to you
While you’re busy making other plans
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy“
Life happened, it was beautiful.
They’re crying, you’re crying.
Doesn’t your heart feel light?
Perhaps I shouldn’t grieve
Your leaving.
We are kindred souls.
In the life after this one-
Perhaps, a different ending.
Life after life,
I will measure time from
Together
To
Together.
Divisoria 