RAW WORKS FOR THE DARING SOUL
I knew I recognized that heart
Like déjà vu
I squint and scan my deficient mind
Which isn’t where I’d find you
Instead, I close my eyes, and there you are, everywhere
Our amnestic reunion
And the infinite illuminates
So I watch you,
I admire you,
and I’m grateful because that is all that is allowed.
And sometimes I howl,
and I miss you,
and I try to remember you because that is all that is allowed.
Hands raised,
No fight left in this particular battle,
Because you hide beneath the surface.
I’ve dulled knives digging,
Skinning myself like a rabbit,
Only to find flesh sensitive to wind and touch,
Still, you rear your vile head,
Poisoning me and others.
I shun, I beg,
I curse and rip your rotten roots but it’s too late
and back you go into your secret hiding place.
I have to reconcile,
This time, all strategies exhausted,
I invited you to the dinner.
I let you take over and take me,
Smashing plates,
Spitting food and flipping tables.
Hijacked and to the edge of breathless peace in death,
You bored as a tired child does,
Curling into my loving arms as I whispered,
“Now get some rest you relentless fuck.”
Photo by Hamish Weir on Unsplash
I sharpened them just for you,
Cat clawing from the barrel only to reach the impenetrable layer.
Back to the bottom,
Hollow and damp,
Harvest light cracking through the seams and I can smell and feel the other side despite being contained.
I shaped the wind,
Wrapping it tightly around my oppressor,
I shook the earth with might,
I shattered the sound barrier with screams
And when the walls, rotted with tears and bloody claw marks finally crumbled,
The only person I recognized was myself.
Removed but close enough,
Heart tightening for what’s to come,
Making me question where we end and another begins,
This God, weaved like fabric into every inch.
This is how we learn the lessons of strangers,
And you are anything but,
Because I see you,
In your wildflowers resembling spilled paint,
In the wind that rolls through with the right words,
In the light that touches each of these hills.
No need for traditional introductions,
It’s a pleasure,
Wishing you the most peaceful journey,
And I’ll keep seeing you.
Leakey, Texas.
Thinking of you in these hills,
Sisters barefoot and isolated,
Only the trees lending an ear to your exceptionally curious minds,
My own heart healing while honoring my unconditional love for you,
And you.
Stay still, don’t spill,
How many hours of different ceilings I’ve stared I couldn’t say,
Body straight, you travel,
burning, reminding.
Don’t be upset,
Don’t get anxious,
Because like an ear to train tracks,
It listens, It scouts, they vibrate.
Like a conductor in symphony,
It points, it waves, they play.
My bittersweet reminders,
How many must I have?
Through pain and challenged vanity,
I SLOW,
I LET GO,
I STAY HERE,
Because you love it too much when I disappear.
I took you out and admired your “so-called” perfection,
Brand new, vibrant,
I was curious and excited about all the places we could go,
All the memories we could make,
But everything new gets old,
And it’s the endurance,
The aged authenticity that makes us grow in our relationships with ourselves and others,
And while I aged with scars and love,
You remained exactly the same.
That once full feeling I got by praising your youth had transformed to hollow,
And I finally learned that some are meant to be admired behind their glass and that is all.
They came to visit last night,
Not the first and never the last.
Uninvited,
Frantic with stillness.
Living in between worlds,
And demanding I do the same.
“Wake up.” They whisper.
“I’m fucking tired, leave me alone.” I command.
And as always, they retreat back into the walls waiting for their next opportunity to share a story that I couldn’t care less about,
At least not at that hour.
CONVERSATIONS WITH ASSHOLES 