Well Then Introduce Myself to Me
If you – happen
to consider yourself
female.
And you are, alone at midnight
(Tuesday morning)
It can be good practice to
strip
down
naked
even though it is nearly ten degrees and you fucked your heater with
red wine somehow last month, so that’s a
Lost. Cause.
And you,
look.
At yourself (goose-bumping, maybe).
You can see your
mother’s (maybe) smile
flaunting and filtering until the end of all that.
And your dad’s (possible)
eyes, saving serious when you need
without hesitation.
Even maybe your best-friend’s-hip-pop-
cherished grade eight.
You will smell, within yourself
what you like to cover with a constant turning of fragrances –
changing fast as you pretend to fall in love
again. And again. —— infinity — —
None of this matters, of course
to the stars outside. Your bed.
They will continue to hold their light
(four? five?) minutes delayed.
And you will continue
maybe as long as you have these feet –
to wish/wonder/crave
how to make yourself (yourself)
feel better.
One harsh tip-toeing balance of holding your delicacy
within laughter trained to sound, effortless.
Welcomed home.
Oppression Contortion Nit Picking
and then, (afterwards) when you
notice. it
you wish you could’ve gone
MAD. instead.
because they say
you have; but you know
you know
ultimately you’ve reached
sanity? finally
the chilly snow covered peaks
Hartz Mountian Fresh Water.
and they
THEY
live in what you attempt to label:
terror
mixed with sweat
and tamponless blood.
on sullen, sweetheart Sunday afternoons
(bare feet/callused soles)
I watch my friend
take power from
– nothing: no power: powerless.
and (but!)
how does she do it?
without
slipping Up
without
showcasing in a glass display the
tears
stolen down a drain of cold showers.
and then later –
darkened, wholesomely lonely Wednesday night
I look at myself in the mirror
(too often, of course)
trying to discover
PINPOINT
the crux of
confusion.
… you won’t find it
he whispers with a cackle
from my bed/room/sheets
from
inside me.
(don’t worry: I’m above it now: cold: Hartz Mountain SnowTM)
in conclusion with nothing to conclude; (March 1st. 2018) I realise
you can’t find
your own lungs
inside you.
you can’t tear apart your face
looking (searching/desperate) for your eye socket.
(ripped tendons, gushing arteries)
it’s there;
as you sleep
and dream
as you let your friends
sleep and dream
laying on your chest. compassion that
YOUR.
HEART.
HEAVES.
FOR.
