élan

tumblr_n0od0qHl2q1qfb9e2o1_1280

 

i was told to have a festival within me

a sort of unexplained hoopla

but inside me it is stoppered

and nothing good is festering

progressive banter, skin tight schedules, self made deadlines,

g, wake up early, love life

-no

-stop

i cannot channel the spirit that will

help me look forward to paying bills

it will be done in the timely manner as one hopes ,

with no beating of the drum

no sayonce

nothing to smile about, really.o for it

Garble

tumblr_m04p4lZpwE1qm6oc3o1_500

i have undressed a thousand times

but i still do not know myself naked

why should i, when all i have done

is plaster my image on to a canvas too good

for the likes of my oozing pores

i could scrub out all that is earthly within me

and i’d still wake with soft dirt in my mouth

 bound to places, times, memories, maggots

so what is id, if not a tooth rotting precisely where it should

gyrating against the pelvis of ignorantia

i thrust the impressions i have of myself

underneath fervent currents

and carry on,

dirt in my cavities,

dust in my eyes.

tumblr_ofl1uzGvgl1r6fbqzo1_1280

 

i’m a mess these days

and these days are melting away

like candles on the back porch

in the heat of july

 

it’s only june still

i’ve leaped ahead of myself

i’ve made notes and revised

and welcomed the crippling fear a few weeks early

 

it comes with perks, the subconscious montage,

it comes with the tune for a morbid little lullaby :

 

who will die, who will die in july

father, step father, friend, feline?

who will die, die and die,

in stationary,

somber, arid july?

 

 

 

tumblr_ngydbcOz5K1t4u79yo1_1280

It’s so strange that the people I’m most comfortable with also make me feel like they’re going to go away from me at any given moment. They make time feel like a vortex that they like to edge closer and closer to just to keep me on my toes, no, to keep my heart pounding in my mouth. It’s an existential game. “How Long Will It Be Until She Stops Dreading?”

Fall through

tumblr_n3m5tc4Kgu1spvtuio1_1280

Perspective

is that soft suggestive breeze

that utters itself

through the mouth

of a friend

who means no harm

Mind the gap between his

two front teeth

as I lean in to kiss him

out of habit.

A force stronger than

the tickle of a breeze

“The kiss, it’s only in your head, “

whispers the wind,

“Memory is just as suggestive, no?”

No!

Memory trickles down into my skin,

embeds in my nerves,

gets to every tip and follicle

Mind the gap

between his presence and his memory

As you lean in to kiss him,

the fog engulfs and

you fall right through.

Black and mould.

tumblr_o1z6ibi69s1tb40lbo1_1280

 

If I had to see you again

I wouldn’t, simply out of fear.

 

Would we still have it?

That soft fluid burning on a thread

between us

each end tied to the pit of our stomachs.

 

And what if it isn’t there anymore?

I would perish all over again, I would mourn,

I would turn to black and mould.

And then there would be the other questions.

 

Did it take a marriage to forget me or just an afternoon?

Did you have to exorcise my memory and feed them

to your demons?

And where do you keep the carcass?

 

Mine sleeps beside me, snuggled,

as you did,

almost every night.