Baby Now (an excerpt)

Day 10: His four white walls became my escape. His skin became my calm, his eyes a forest green and brown I longed to get lost in every time I slipt back into reality. It was happening fast so I didn’t let him touch me in ways that mattered. When it was time to sleep I faced the wall once again and drowned out the sound of his breath with Bon Iver, counted the seconds til I lost consciousness.

 

Back then I was a runaround

a local gypsy bouncing between walls

to find magic wherever I could-

desperate times called for desperate

pleasures and I felt neither shame

nor fulfillment.

 

Day 20: After the first time the sincerity of his soul seeped through my rib cage, he forgave me for being broken. Broken down, broken hearted, just plain fuckin broken. He forgave me before he even cared to. The forest of his eyes quickly felt like a home I wanted to dwell in. I wanted to hike every goddamn mile and leave no stone unturned.

 

Since, he has

taken the cliché out of forever,

written my emotions in a chart

to cross out once he solves ‘em.

my mind is a minefield and he

can dodge the ammunition like

I have never seen before and so

he teaches me how to do the same.

 

Day 365: He knows me like the back of his hand. I have his forest eyes mapped out on paper, I have marked every trail with a different color. I have painted the trees. Baby you make me want to put time in a capsule and save it for later when time used to turn me to a cynic. I want to live on this earth for as long as you can hold me. I want to shamelessly unravel in the palm of your hand every time I am forced to feel. You took my broken pieces and taped them back together in a way that they work. You are the team my dreams have held from me up until the first time your lips became more than just lust and whispers. Baby now I stand on treetops and scream your name.

 

 

Avoiding this dystopian world we live in with utopian imagery

I want to live where the sea meets the sky

inside coordinates where I have never told

a lie, have never cried. where grass grows

in the deepest depths of the ocean, where

trees breathe underwater, where God does

not seek apologies. I want the sun to love

me back, kiss every inch of my body, caress

me with a burn that lingers at the day’s end.

I want to live where the music never stops,

where people read poetry out loud like it

is the last thing they will do that matters.

 

In this place, war does not exist. all we know

is the intimacy of lips. In this place, there

is no fighting, no flight risk, we all just float

on with the current, without warrant. In this

place, we let the flowers grow beneath our toes,

no one picks them from their home to benefit

their own. In this place, I use the stars as a blanket

and let the moon cradle me to sleep. In this place,

this is all I need.

Insp. by 2Fish

I walk barefoot always to leave

tracks so someone may find me

so someone may bind me

unwind me from the blue chaos

that minds me.

 

I walk with my head up always

searching for clarity for meaning

for love (that shits deceiving)

 

ways to feel

and not feel

ways to deal

and not deal

 

where do I fit in in this whirlwind world

why am I who I am and not who im not

is my fate written in the stars

does it swim in the clear blue sea

who is me who is we

am I free

can I be?

cancer

my heart and its slow beat

the world and its slow spin

time froze that week

blue eyes and white hair

my siblings’ faces

ten eyes all the same

turned barren;

“I have to talk to you

about my health”

and I think a pin dropped

and I think no one heard it

and I think my heart might have

stopped when it hit the ground.

just some thoughts…

everywhere I look I am surrounded by artists

painters sculptors poets interpreters philosophers

the sky paints living creatures breathing creatures

some breathe water some fire but they all have one

thing in common- they breathe and practice

catching their breath in the midst of blue chaos…

live for any bit of light that is pouring out of them

another thing- they are all searching, searching for

clarity for meaning for love and oxygen

Bon Iver

I sunk into red velvet seats could taste the sweetness

on my tongue as if my tongue were touching his

and the reverberation from his guitar pushed me

in further and further and slowly and beautifully

and I felt so much passion coming from his fingertips

leaving no single nerve in my body un-kissed

he sang of god and love and loss and forgiveness,

what forgiveness may be whether or not it is

obtainable. but you pluck the strings of my soul

an somehow in one single night I learn to forgive

in exchange for wisdom thoughts escaping

from the tip of my pen

Dad (1)

My dad fell asleep

in his chair across the room from me

In his house with no tv

with nothing but music and

Old photographs to make time pass.

 

I watched his chest rise and fall until its

pattern was engraved in my brain

he breathes to the strum of a guitar

to the dancing of piano keys, to my breath

as he built me and shaped its pattern.

 

he sleeps but still his feet kick to the rhythm

of the speaker, stays in his sneakers (like all dads)

with his mouth wide open (but in his dreams,

he’s probably singin’). and Love pours from it

straight from the soul and engulfs the room

makes the fire grow bigger, turns my blood

toasty warm and melts

my hearts broken pieces

into one.

 

Asphalt

Asphalt makes me nostalgic when it’s wet from the rain, it’s weird. My heart used to

Beat to the sound of each raindrop. I could hear the

Crickets in your backyard

Dancing in the grass

Every time our conversation broke. I can almost

Feel the silence still. I remember the flickering

Gas station lights and

How

I would open my passenger seat door to talk to you while you pumped the gas

Just so I didn’t have to miss you. I hope you know I was

Kidding when I said I didn’t

Love you anymore.

Maybe I’m crazy, but even the

New songs remind me of you,

Old songs too, and empty

Pizza boxes. I still can’t

Quite figure out the

Reason you left in a

Split second but I

Try to

Understand as your

Voice replays in my head like a broken record; I don’t

Want this anymore.

Treading

the pitter patter grows quieter

the longer it rains. The bucket on the floor

creeps closer to the brim until it spills over,

becomes the lava of my feelings. I jump

from chair to chair trying not to feel

the dampness begin to cover my feet,

although it is long overdue. The droplets

turn to a whisper and I can almost hear them

saying prepare to tread but my arms

of course are numb. numbness tingles

through every synapse begging me to harken

new emotions. I take a deep breath and my

eyes become blurry; only this time I hear

start by dipping your toes.

The Final Push

the constant push and pull

and then the final push.

when the weight of the world

is settling in your chest, unwarranted,

unwanted

and the lightness of his

proximity has faded away/

 

I often thought of us

together, dangling

our feet off an old porch

in mid July. I often sat

beneath that old cherry tree

and felt what it was to be

whole / the moistened

petals sticking to my bare feet.

 

Now my throat burns

with whiskey with no tree to hold me,

but a love to stare at me

from far away,

seeing only the fragmented pieces

he shattered and took

all at once.

 

Peepers

I lost you last night,

the same night I let myself shamelessly

break down between everyone around me

and the man that raised me,

the night I put a hole through my favorite

J Cole poster, how his face had now lacked

sincerity, comfort. The wicker basket

trashcan stuck shrouds in my feet.

 

I don’t know what it is but I

need to get out of here,

away from the damage, the wall

of a voice on the end of the phone line

still glued to my ear.

 

I need to get out of here;

sink into leather seats

and my brother and sisters laughs,

find comfort in inhale

and exhale.

 

We parked in the cul-de-sac with the lights off,

music off, windows down. I listened

to the peepers keeping themselves warm.

How they understood me.