ethereal child,
even the devil wants to see
the world through your eyes.
look how they pine.ethereal child,
you have ensnared him,
no longer red with
lust, but the color of
your vitreous soul.ethereal child, do you
feel his fiery fingers
around your forearms,
injecting you like needles?let go, let go
let the fire burn.
familiar stranger
new friend
tell me of the time we crossed
once before
under the wisteria.
i’ll meet you there– halfway
between the poppies
and forever.
your voice a nocturne,
notes i’ve never fallen asleep
to before: i cannot
quite tell where it is
within me that you dwell.
do you sing a song of this
universe, or one of
dreams?
you can jump out of an airplane but
be too scared to ask your waitress
for ketchup.there is no method to the madness
we are.but i know you will make room
in your heart for the things
you are on fire for, because
those are what keep you living.
when you want something badly enough,
you will face your fears for it.
it was my first word
at thirteen months old
and my first word to you when
i met you on the train to Zurich.
do you remember? we huddled
next to each other in our seats
and with warm breath whispered
about our dreams
while the rain hit the windows.
this was your seventh stop
on a journey to see the world,
i was looking for a corner to call home.
excitement numbed our lips, teeth
hit teeth and
we laughed
bumping noses
warm breath
warm breath and
you could almost feel the magnetic
field around us in
that little corner of the world as
it rolled past in our windows.
dear little egg, you’re
going to open your eyes
for the first time in a white
room, not knowing that
my childhood home is now
underwater. and when
you are older, i will let
you run in the back yard
without shoes on, but
you will never know the comfort
of sinking into healthy
soil. you will never understand
what it means to make a mark on
the earth that does not hurt
it.
seven years’ worth of leaves
will still be decaying, and
i will not know how to explain
where they came from.
i will not know how to explain
to you that other beings used to
live here, too, or
that there was once another planet
underneath a green canopy and
in autumn, the skies would
bathe in fire.
inhale. exhale.
inhale oxygen. exhale carbon dioxide.
inhale oxygen exhale carbon dioxide.
inhale oxygen inhale carbon dioxide exhale oxygen inhale carbon dioxide inhale
oxygen exhale carbon dioxide exhale oxygen exhale carbon dioxide inhale carbon dioxide inhale oxygen inhale
carbon dioxide exhale
oxygen exhale
carbon dioxide inhale oxygen
exhale carbon dioxide exhale oxygen.
i never hear the ocean
when i put shells to
my ear. instead, i hear
His heavy breathing
from behind as
He pushes me on my bed.
on my disney princess sheets.
instead, i hear the sound
of the washing machine, loaded
with those sheets. those
bloody sheets.
instead, i hear Him
in every creak and groan in
every corner of the house,
each gust of wind that blows
when I walk home alone, every
breath I took after He broke me:
too heavy, too shallow.
hissing and foaming.
you were the first person
i ever tried to convince myself
i did not love.
you were the first time
i denied the lava in my stomach.you were perfect for me.
there was nothing about us
that didn’t make sense,
and yet i turned away.for some reason,
i have such good timing
but such bad luck, and so
i always end up in the
arms of the wrong people.
i always end up
alone again.even when i feel alone,
you are there to console me.
and i have finally realized that
if i were with you, you probably
wouldn’t have to be consoling me.
with you, i would be happy.
and that scares me.
take time to comb through
your soul, to really look deep
into it– where you just begin.you’ve collected so much over the years:
sights, sounds, scenes, and smells.
it’s starting to get a little bit crowded
in your mind– it’s hard to make
any sense of who you are. you’ve collected
more than you can absorb.take time to comb through
yourself and choose
what you love, value and
what makes you smile.
keep those within yourself and know
you are what you love.take time to comb through
those things that are dark and
heavy and make you sad.
really look at them, don’t
ignore them.
let them pinch you, let them
remind you. let them teach you,
but do not let them draw blood.
keep the lessons they’ve taught you,
but do not let them stay.it is important to,
every so often, remind yourself
what things you are and
what things you aren’t so that
you may let go of everything
you are not or no longer want
to be.
you find the ingredients
to lose yourself
in the kitchen cabinets.
in twelve hours with coconut oil,
a chopstick and a fork,
you unkink your hair and
lose a piece of yourself in
the air that blows between the doorways
of the only home you’ve ever known.you’re down a limb, and you can
feel its phantom
brushing up against your body,
trapped
within these same walls.you shut the door quickly
when you leave so
that it cannot escape.
it has to stay inside.
you want to visit sometime
soon.
Silenticel 