Tag: mental health

Moon

treadmills,

racing thoughts


aware of impending loss,

hearts pump at their own pace,

but face to face

I forget to

slow

gentle

patient

in the psych ward

with grip socks

a rite of passage


you remind me of the moon,

sliver in a limitless sky,

universe you don’t share


is it me

or the certainty of an end,

good enough to pretend

finite enough to forget


Ruminating reflection

of the sea and the earth

and me,

now stuck on a memory

of collecting

cow bones

and begging the cops

to arrest that man,

faceless killer

with bones

like those I held


but they tell me to be a good girl

men always tell me to be a good girl


do not love me,

they say,

do not love me,

but stay

until you love

nothing but the moon



4/12/23

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Messes

Did I love you

Or did I love my reflection

Fragmented/Split

I learned how to say sorry this year

I hear children are usually taught it

But I was never a child

And I never had parents

Sometimes I stay in bed

And wish for something unfamiliar

I plant flowers now

When I water them,

I remember to take a drink 

You should see the house

Linda the neighbor said it’s lovely

Linda is lovely

Still, dirt stays in my fingernails

So when I hold myself, I feel grounded

I leave messes

Because I don’t want to be clean

I don’t want anything to end

I did love you

04-10-21

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Weightless

Barelegged and braless,

stargazing at the wall,

waiting for

a burning ball of gas

to sweep me into a vacuum

where the air is so thin

that my brain can’t

find it

 

“How does that make you feel”

they would ask

and I’d say “weightless”

 

for now, though, it’s all heavy

and my eyes are falling in

so I can’t see the starlight

 

only a wall

 

9-04-19

 

 

 

 

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Shattered Glass

Sometimes shattered glass still cuts my brain

and you see me wince like the child I was

when I went running through the tall grass

with snakes and ticks and spiders

who made better company

than the venomous tongues in the kitchen

 

Resolution was a closed door

and three young girls

talking about tomorrow behind it

 

Peaceful were the days when I foraged for

shredded cheese and ketchup sandwiches

and raced the dogs to the creek

 

Heavenly were the days when I visited

my friend in the trailer park

and we sang Shania on the trampoline

while her mom made us macaroni

(she always asked if I wanted seconds)

 

Now I nod along to J.D. Vance

but you can’t understand where we’ve been

and how hard it is to throw away the white trash

that we’ve collected in heart-heavy landfills,

our memories like landmines exploding

with a mere whiff of mildew

or the sound of shattered glass on linoleum floors

 

8-16-19

 

 

 

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Speak Up

how do I talk to a river

when I am an ocean,

pushing and pulling,

swelling but never

reaching the mouth

 

you are constant and strong

most days I am quiet and calm,

but some days I rip through

my own flesh to break free of the tide

 

how could you ever understand

the storm that bites my heels

or why I never left it at the riverbanks

where I sought any semblance

of love or strength or presence

to stifle my little voice

 

I thought I was preserving it

but I think I may have lost it

somewhere in a prayer

 

so how do I talk to a river

now that I am faithless

 

7-25-19

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