Posts for June 10, 2019 (page 3)

Yes believe me. I don’t have long. I can’t see.
I don’t know if it’s because I actually can’t, or tears are flooding my eyes.
This brings me back. I tried to drown myself a year ago. I inhaled near the end. It didn’t work, sadly. Was this punishment for my earlier sins. I know many people who sin. Why me?
As a stare into the mirror. I’m frozen. My legs tremble but I can’t seem to walk. I cannot move. My arms tense up. I saw my reflection blink. I’m getting sucked into the mirror.
Is this my punishment? My reflection pulled me in. I’m resisting. Is this a bad dream?
Pinch. Fuck. I’m awake.
I must be going crazy. Was this residual? Have I been through this before, just reliving it?
I see myself. I’m on the wrong side. Ah, shit! Well this is gonna suck. How am I supposed to attempt again? I just filled the bath.

This morning, I smiled at myself
in the mirror. I stroked and patted
my belly and said 

who’s a good a girl?

I’m fragile like a porcelain saucer, all bruised edges and a good heart held together with aging glue.
The first bull in my china shop has always been and will always be you.
You’re the backroad to the bones of an abandoned house,
a narrow road birthing your wide shoulders to the home where we secretly gave each other mouth-to-mouth…
The tears I’ve cried for your comings and going, 
are a flooded river continuously overflowing.
You were my real first,
better than bourbon at quenching my thirst.
You’re the boy who broke my heart and will still testify,
that it’s the best heart anyone could come by.
But that boy who broke all the dishes in an almost empty room,
became a man who can always set me in full bloom.
I wish I could lay claim to Horse Creek’s prodigal son.

the words disappear,
shards of antler slipping thru fingers. they echo like bone.
throat empty; but head so, so full. something there is
magnesium-bright-hot and blinding
pulses like heart-pound while placid in mirror’s eye.
hold tight against the flutter; drink the worm’s-wood-green.
chase it with the honeyed-moon-beam – liquid amber on the tongue
ringing
ringing
singing to the Old Soul. Voice found, heart’s sound is thunder thrumming
spindle-on-sinew humming
‘Huuuuu’-of-life-breath a cinder-shower.
We set to shaping things; with our hands, our mouths.
our Words
working Power.

My niece and nephew
Back home safe where they belong
In dad’s loving arms

The bar bathroom wall

says that I am

“A gladiator of

Light

and

Love”.

And I choose to believe

this is

True.

Let’s throw a party
while the grown-ups are away

We’ll play games, like
Never Have I Ever Been Paid Fairly
Russian Roulette, except it’s my health (i.e. which untreated ailment will be
the one to kill me)
Compare student loan debt to apples to credit card debt

Let’s play House,
but a House of hetero roommates
We can’t afford a mortgage
and absolutely no gay rat weddings

you who have asked to die
tied to addiction
stripped of all reason
silent in bondage

out of old sorrow
out of the wilderness
dropped on the palace floor
wildflowers and Adam’s sin

Will you remember those cries in the storm
Love God, Obey, Be Kind and Live
Manna that fed the people for 40 years
Sanctified rain that rode on the desert wind

After Orchids Are Sprouting From the Floorboards by Kaveh Akbar

Fog on the ridges. Cars enveloped by fog. 
Yesterday is fog. Everything is
fog. Fog under my fingernails. Fog
in my wallet, in the blue purse
under the table. Fog like incense. 
Fog wags its tail, tongue
lolling in the heat. Fog, like so much
unnamed, slipping away.