Sky is blue and clear
Cool, balmy breezes
Not too hot, just right
I stare longingly at it
From my busy desk
Stuck inside working
Instead of being wild
In the summer sun
Where I truly belong
Who decided that this
Is how we should live?
When dreams are falling
Cascading from the heavens
Tormenting temples
Burning shoulders
Scalding trembling thighs
When the sky no longer cradles the moon
And the stars forget to dance through the night
When the birds lose their morning songs
And the sun calls in sick
Who will place a gentle hand
Upon the weary, crippled back
To offer grace
And absolve shame
“It’s okay,
I know you’re tired.
Rest now,
I will be here when you wake”
That would be enough
To begin again
Glittering glass makes the roof of my car look like a beautiful disco ball
And the open window draws my eyes to the dancing grass a foot away from my face.
I scream at the top of my lungs
But with the pressure building in my head
I’m completely unaware if I actually made a sound.
Everything fades back to black.
summer for feeling the world breathe on you.summer for feeling abandoned.
for hugging at midnight with open eyes wondering
if cruelty can spread through skin.for shedding more manmade skin each day
until I’m left with the songs God left me for a body
wanted to do it.
after I left she went to every party cross eyed
so she could see herself in the mirror twice.kissing my own tears
on her flank.dying in
my own childbirth?honestly, I woke up with colostrum
filling my bloodstream.all i remember
is the first breath of unbloodied light, before I started
to cry.my dreams now
aren’t from the past or the future, they’re from my animal brain.my hot
nights of melatonin tolerance and all fours
— see how it became
about me, not her?that is how my life turned.its jaw
in a bruised hand, initiating
day/night mazurka.
what is the difference between teal and turquoise
robin egg blue
sea foam green
and
mint green
?
my mom always called the teal cup green.
Is she colorblind?
I don’t understand the difference
between manipulation and working well
with others. Getting people to do what you want,
projects going smoothly—
Every interaction is manipulative.
Or so I thought, which
must not be universally true, since
I’m thinking it with my sick brain that I got from my sick stupid parents
my horrible parents who taught me to hate myself, that I was worthy of hate, and tricked
me into thinking they were good.
that stupid teal cup was not green.
and that faded
culturally-malapropos mug with kittens on it
on top of doilies with tiny roses on them, and
the pink was warm.
the warm beverage looked like
how it would look inside of a mouth.
It was chipped and cracked and
broken. my parents wanted to get rid of it.
I felt angry
they never understood* me
*or believed, or loved,
or cherished, or protected,
or celebrated, or witnessed
what’s the difference?
I’m sidelong in a gaze
my neck hurts but I don’t care
I could listen
I could stare
until a phase of whitening in your hair
I haven’t blinked,
I won’t dare
my lungs need more air
but I’m enamored in my chair
I’m thirsty for a drink and you’re whisky rare
I’m tipsy
mal de mer,
I hear your voice and I’m impaired
