follow me to the end
of the world.
i want to hear ‘i love you’
echoing off a canyon’s edge;
your laughter, never ending
in the darkness.
your hand in mine,
double helixes of fingers
two plants intertwined,
seeking the same sun.
there’s pressure
beneath this existence:
splintering
the boarded up walls warping
the foundation
providing no security or time
to ask questions or
listen for answers.
only to see and know
what it is to exist. to breathe
what is right in front of you.
put your ear to my chest
just once before
it stops beating;
become familiar with the sound
of the world
coming to an end.
you say there’s no poetry
for you, darling,
but it’s here
written in the way your words
sway me like grass
in a summer breeze, the way
my skin tingles like stars when
you say my name,
when you say
my name is magick.put your hand to my chest–
do you feel
the rhythm of the verses
beating
for you? every step,
every cell, for you,
for you and I
will never stop breathing
this poetry; my lungs
are saturated with it.
i will celebrate the fact
that my life has been carved
into my skin for everyone
to read.i am no longer ashamed of
the way i laugh or
the size of my heart– like
the bread we break,
take a piece
to keep in your pocket.
it will not grow stale,
i promise.sometimes i feel i have enough
to feed the world.this universe is a pitcher
i cannot fill, though i pour
myself into it completely
inside
out.i devour authenticity
and the freedom of
opening my mouth and
letting whatever is inside
fall to the ground.
i’m starting to freeze.
has the fire in your heart gone?
you can’t keep me warm.
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 found you
three days after you died.
i walked into your office and
found you hunched over your desk,
your face deteriorating
into your coffee mug.i picked you up and threw you
over my shoulder.
your knuckles dragged on the sidewalk
the entire walk home.we wrapped you
in all your favorite scarves and
put you in a coffin
filled with salt-water taffy.
while they sang ‘der voghormia,’ i growled,
and the sky echoed me.i growled
at your scarves and your
salt-water taffy and your
face. for the first time
in years, you looked peaceful.
i growled and growled until they
started shoveling the dirt in.the sky boomed on the drive home.
i saw your face in the windshield,
contorted into a sneer, your eyes
glazed over, your nostrils flared.your face in the ground,
so pale, so silent, so peaceful.
so peaceful.
Who I am now is neither who I used to be nor who I’ll always be.
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.
Silenticel 