Wednesday, September 26, 2018

Ghost




Lately I feel haunted 
by a ghost that flaunts 
and taunts me
A devil spawn
I cannot blame
on another tomb
cannot name 
on another womb
Not born inside me
but a self possession 
nonetheless
I inhaled 
from the ghosts 
that came before me 
A legacy
a blood related quality
that I don’t want
It
is a violent mystery
that goes back
farther than I can trace
my genetic history
Like a ghost train
speeding in my direction
I watched my parents take the baton
from their own
They sprinted with
it
oblivious to the relay race
and I was running so fast
that I took the baton without knowing
even though I swore
It
was never my intention

White, hot rage
Endless, chronic anger
I feel afflicted with
Boa constricted in
I have resisted
it
Avoided
it
Misunderstood
it
Criticized
it
and carried
it
around
Emotionally illiterate
my whole life
Now
I look in the mirror
and I am disgusted
indignant
Behavior so obvious that
it
would be dangerous
not to claim
I don’t know where
it
started
and I don’t know where
it
ends
I wish I could say that I will be the one ending
it
But a promise is meaningless
if you know you have already broken
it
As soon as I find another layer
I find another layer
It
is a self fulfilling prophecy
An awful Ouroborus
A trait that transfers
itself
through the act of being
itself
If
it
goes uninspected
righteously protected
uncorrected
or inappropriately directed
it
is perpetually projected
in every direction
It
makes me want to apologize
for the first time
I picked
it
up
Like a flat sleek rock on a sandy beach
I skipped
it
across the water
watched the ripples scatter
In awe of the power that one stone can hold
I want to apologize
to the ones who have held 
the boulder of being close to me
I want to apologize 
to every person
I ever kicked
even the tiniest pebble
In their direction

Monday, September 3, 2018

Thoughts on giving up




Don’t give up 


When the world outside 
is asking too much 
and everyone I know 
grows sharp teeth
and everything they say 
sounds like a request for blood 
I look inside 
Take a walk across my desert 
Feel my feet fall upon sand
that is dry and cracked 
Listen for the rustling 
of dying leaves 
Brush the tallest weeds 
against the palms 
of my outstretched hands
When it seems like 
the stranger is pushing 
I wonder if maybe 
it is the friend who is pulling 
Who will not give up 
Will not let me give up on myself 
I play games
of hide and seek
I place bandaids of pride
on my dodgeball strawberries
And I pick myself last 
for kickball 
every time 




Not yet deciphered


The Magpie has a bad reputation
for thievery and deviance
But the truth is
they are curious and misunderstood
Crows and Ravens are labled
with omen and mystery
But actually they speak complex languages
Not yet deciphered
with variations of accents, regions and species 
Like a parrots phrases 
Begging for attention 
and connection 
Squawking
with obnoxious reitieration 
we mimic the separation we are shown 
In the midst of our instant replay disbelief
we loop the recording on repeat 
Polly want a cracker
Polly want to crack
Polly wants
And then cracks

Sometimes
we push ourselves to broken 
before we allow ourselves to rest 
in another’s arms 
if we ever do at all

Sometimes we live inside our shells 
wrapped in our own arms 
never knowing the difference 
until we come to the end of our life 
and rot inside the egg 

Sometimes we wiggle the constriction
hairline fractures appear 
and we peer out
eyes pressed against the openings 
Blinded by the light 
wide-eyed 
watching from the inside 
until we come to the end of our life 
and rot inside the egg

Sometimes we bust and fumble
with clumsy excitement 
dance on eggshells 
fall to the ground 
bounce just a little 
grow wings  
and try again 

Sometimes we figure out 
how to slice through the thickness 
that holds so much resistance 
and for a moment we know
that flying 
is not 
the end