Stumbling

It troubles me to think of the miles I’ve walked in my father’s shoes

Walked, stumbling, clumsy, uncertain

What pains me though, are the ones I’ll never travel

The miles he walked alone, fearful, in the dark.

Dreams

I dreamt of you the other night

In that dream, I walked away
But only after I saw the pain
Smeared like mud across your face

I opened my eyes,
and clutched my chest
Fighting my demons for breath…

Run! my heart whispered,

Run.

Fear

Do we fear interaction?

Do I fear interaction?

I fear it and crave it in turns

Fear usually wins

What would happen if we

Looked into each other’s eyes?

What would we see?

How would we feel?

I walk through life terrified –

How did I get this way?
how did I get this way?

Fair Trade

I dripped blood on my notebook,

as a Sacrifice, blood of my womb

to birth a poem

Fair trade

I’m beginning to doubt if my womb

will shed anything but blood

I live in a perpetual state of loneliness

I’m not certain what it would be like

to care for someone else

I’m content in my selfishness

cozy in my solitude

My mind keeps me company

Helps to wile away the hours and

my  hands are my lovers,

they know me well

serve me well

My Grandmother’s Sweater

I’ve lost my sweaters
They held me close as I wept
Buried my face in their depths
When my grandmother passed
They held her too
Shielded her from the bitterness that winter can bring
Wrapped her in their fabrics and heated her
Warmed her creativity
Arms swaddled, her hand moved, penned words,
Poems, prose
I wrote in you too,
Took comfort from you
I’ll miss you
But will always have the echo of you in my mind
Warm fabrics, weathered wool
You held me, you held mine
Now, I’ll let you go

Stardust

I’m not shiny, I’m not happy,

I am hurt and damaged

Most days I want to slice myself open,

Rip out my heart, tear apart my soul

And throw myself into a deep dark pond because

That would be easier than figuring this shit out

That would be simpler than asking myself

Where the fuck do I go from here ?

How the hell do I find happiness in this shithole called my life?

That’s most days.

Then there are some days where I remember,

I stand outside and stare at the night sky

I let the darkness surround me and gaze at stars

I tell myself that I am made of fucking stardust

And anything is possible

I tell myself that I am smaller than a grain of sand on a beach

I am atoms, and molecules and energy and life

And I can just be

I can just breathe

Because I am fucking stardust.

Dust

the thing that tugs at me from my  last relationship is not the fact that she and I didn’t work out, because, bless her. I mean, bless her. Hell in a handbasket that one, but the emphatic way in which she professed her love for me. Then just shut it off. Which if I’m honest, I shut mine off too. I tumbled head first into love, because that is actually, not a thing I do. I am meticulous and I analyze and this time I didn’t. I didn’t think, I just lept, and I’m not sorry for it, I’m not ashamed of it. What I am sorry for is that I let her speak in absolutes. I let her tell me that she would always love me. That she would love me forever. She didn’t even love me for a month. I’m smarter than that. I’m wiser than that but I let her. And here’s the thing, the whole time the smarter, wiser part of me was raging against it, part of me believed her. Part of me thought, maybe this gorgeous, lively, drunken mess will love me all the days of her life. And here’s the part I resent, pay attention: the part I resent is that I let that possibility creep in, and it didn’t work out. And now, it has fed my complex. I have an unlovability complex, you see, and she fed it. Piled it high with sticks and brush, poured gasoline on it, dropped a match and walked away as that motherfucker burned.

My mother gave me up for adoption when I was a baby. Gave me up. What the fuck kind of a phrase is that? Then, people are obsessed with adopting things, pets, railways, freeways, elephants, things. I’m lumped together with a fucking freeway and I wonder why I feel less than. Why I feel unimportant. Then I wonder why seeing people as carbon copies of those they share DNA with makes me want to grind my bones into dust.

I was given up for adoption when I was a baby. A woman who was supposed to love me forever gave me away like a pair of jeans and a girl who said she’d love me forever didn’t even stick around to watch me turn to ash.

And it’s not about her. I don’t love her. That’s not the point. The point is that I have an unlovability complex and I am ash. I am dust. And I need that fucking shit to change. The point is I share a category with a fucking freeway.

That’s the fucking point.

intimacy

i miss letting people in

i’ve never done it with lovers

only friends

and i haven’t done so in a long long time

people get confused though

because i share details of my life

things which some people would hold

so closely to their chests, never to spill out

i dump all over the floor

i do it for me, not for them

i am purging myself of my pain

but that is not intimacy, it is not closeness

 

not for me

 

to me, intimacy is when i lay my head on a lap

when i share a bed with someone and we let the night drift around us

the lights are out and we send our voices into the darkness

carrying whatever hope or fear or thought held within us

knowing that it will be caught by the other person

intimacy is knowing that even if all you are greeted with

is soft, even breathing, you are still heard

still loved

i miss that.

it has been years.

i want to find it again, in a lover

 

and a friend.

you believe me, don’t you?

Anger churns in my stomach

Rises, like bile, in my throat

I fight to push it down

So this is what alone feels like

No tethers, no warm bodies to press against

Be wrapped up into,

False words, false love

I love you so much,

You believe me don’t you?

Echoes in my mind

I did, and how foolish I was

The days tick away, 10, 9, 8…until we part

Until she can be free of me, continue on with her life

Unscathed, undaunted, and I’m left,

Strange coast, strange place,

Not a single familiar face,

This is what fear feels like

Last night, I fell asleep curled up into my bags,

I wrapped myself in a blanket and covered my face with my grandfather’s shirt

To feel safe, protected, a nest of my making, of things that cannot make promises and so

Are unable to disappoint, bags, clothes, books

I huddled against them and sobbed

Pain and panic pulsated from my body

Tiny bits of liberation, in the form of tears escaped me

I felt the weight of my solitude press against me

I told her I was angry with her yesterday

She didn’t sleep next to me

She has already started to leave

I’m not entirely certain she arrived here with me,

The distance is all that remains,

I’m not just going to leave you on your own,

You believe me, don’t you?

Tell Me More

I remember kissing you,

Rolling over and pulling your body into mine

Inhaling the musky, earthy scent of you.

Somehow, I worked up the courage to

Look into your eyes and you,

Lovely you,

Gazed back, unflinching, unmoving.

Tentatively, I ran my fingers through your hair,

I touched each strand,  and let them fall through,

Weave themselves around my fingers and watched

In wonder as your eyes drifted slowly closed,

Contented.

Your smile sent warmth directly to my soul

I lived to see that smile tug at the corners of  your mouth,

Watched as your lips ordered me to kiss them,

Swooned while your eyes begged me to love them,

Wrapping my arms around your body

I buried my face in your neck and felt

You open to me, welcome me.

You spoke to me in the language of my heart

A language I had thought only I understood

But that first night, I looked into your eyes and

From the moment our lips touched

You spoke to me, fluent and clear,

Whispered your understanding,

And I heard my heart say,

Tell me more.