Trying to find the peace of my mind that I seem to have lost some time ago
Or maybe I never obtained it?
The piece to the puzzle I’ve dismantled and purposely misplaced
In the hands of a stranger that turned to familiar face
Or to the one who said they’d never leave and yet never left a trace
Maybe to the parents who helped create this space
My mind has wandered for it in so many places
Putting herself through too many phases
One which lead to the discovery of a piece that looked to fit
But chaos can impersonate peace when the puzzle isn’t fully complete
Forced its rigid edges and shallow creases into a part meant for a treat
Only to develop a catastrophe disguised as a masterpiece
With Self destruction and self preservation as the main release
Extirpating the entire mind perhaps is a solution but comes with a cost
Because the chaos is stuck and the peace is still lost
Petrichor smell like your body, i miss.
Sugar taste like your lip on our first kiss.
Your face like blue color that i like much.
Your character little bit misterious, like black t-shirt that i wear.
Your cuddling like wearing my favorit jacket.
I love everything on you till i can't life without.
I need you day by day and will always
My forgotten tongue,
bound, quiet, still
stirs. Heavy with decades of dust, it calls:
do not forget.
A lone, weak voice. Atrophied,
at the edge of hearing.
It's coated in filth-
the filth of the past. My heart
a tabla beating a footfall;
faster, faster, louder, louder. It softens-
just for a second. Enough to hear the call:
do not forget.
Trembling, burning, for the first time
I answer.
My broken tongue,
I excavate coated in fossilized pain and memory;
its grave goods.
I peel them away, layer by layer,
and put them to rest alone.
Then rebuild the missing parts, the broken parts,
with stones cut from longing.
My newborn tongue
trips on the steps to familiar dances;
curls around words like old friends, old loves;
clicks into place beside present and past.
Each day a remembrance.
Each a discovery. I hold them close, and whisper:
do not forget.
Are you safe?
Have you noticed as I have that a bed's edges close in
without two bodies to hold them back?
And no number of instant messages
make distance easy to live with.
The cat left.
It took the first few weeks of soft words & pheromone to settle him and
bang, just like that the first firework ruined everything.
Chasing safety into insecurity, he made himself
a cruel part of the winter nights.
I ride the bus now
to distraction & forgetfulness, on occasion
look up from my book and try to identify what matters most in life,
mark between scarred frost fields & slick slate roofs
some insight 30 years have yet to prove.
I used to sit up top
among the unchecked volume of youth: school uniforms
unbroken voices & the constant tug of war between conformity
& the individuals they're aching to become.
I try to remember how it felt being them –
bodies desperate
to grow, skin as yet unblemished by what they'll one day learn
to think important. I think of the classmates who
joined me in my growing and realise
these are their children.
The top deck
rattles off its routine as the sun
which has risen somewhere beyond fogged hills struggles
greens & browns back into this our home beyond the window, light
moving slow as a yawn down the valley
Really I'm torn
between the past's impressions & the future's promises
To the sultry roll of a mandolin,
your child came.
Not my child, you understand, but yours:
The bastard son of a father who left him
in my fumbling hands,
Outstretched, and ready to receive the head,
just starting to crown.
I thought it would be loud—
The wail of an out of tune fiddle;
a banjo with a missing string.
But the evening is still,
The only sound the mandolin.
Its decaying tremolo,
A silent music, and quiet, as we wait:
You working, I with baited breath,
and anticipation,
Of the cry that’s yet to come.
I'm tired of trying, tired of crying
Deep down inside you knew I've been dying
Im honest with you, I'm not even lying
But my dedication to you was the only thing you're fighting
I loved your face, I loved your laugh
I adored your eyes, how you would look back
Smile, hug, and tell me it's all okay
But suddenly you left me at the end of the day
A final goodbye I hadn't the chance to say
Cause all you were doing was pushing me away
I became your enemy, on you features a snarl
Every single time we talked; a quiet quarrel
I never expected you wanting it this way
Not wanting me to stick around, or to stay
I regret trusting you, I abhor your attitude
Your anger and deception was really quite rude
At the same time, I wanted you to say
Oh, my dear lover, my love towards you isn't a game
I pushed back, I struggled, I raged and I fought
The feelings and emotions and inside that you taught
The tears of misery, the shame on your face
Was all just an act, calling me a waste
I'm sorry I lied, I'm sorry to say goodbye
But all in all, you don't care, so why should I?
We are at some sort of government facility. Later, grandpa is showing us around a house, and he tells us the ground rules (it has something about avoiding being alone in a room during certain times of the day). I only half hear what he says, but I nod my understanding.
Then we're in the living room, and Mary is there. We're exchanging gifts. Something flies up (or runs really quickly) up the flight of stairs that lead up to the house, and it pounces into the room where we're gathered. It's a fox with a candy cane in its mouth. It walks right up to me and takes the candy from my outstretched hand.
I observe people outside at the beach. I observe from a window in the house. I admire one person in particular. I hear a noise, and look up to see a couple of people in the room adjacent to the one I'm in. I try to cover myself, trying to draw a cardigan over myself, but I'm not wearing a cardigan: only a diaphanous gown.
Then the people in the other room are talking excitedly about something. I can see they have a camera. Grandpa bursts into my room. He takes me to a closet and tells me to stay inside. But it's very full of stuff. I feel my body contort. He says he'll “take care of” things.
I start noticing everything in the closet. The smells. The way things are pressing against my body. And the air starts to feel thin. I feel light-headed.
And then the door opens. I run to the window. It looks like the town was hit by a storm. And all that remains is rubble and flotsam.