What we are Becoming

We believe in curses.

The names we’ve been called,

The feeling we were being

Overlooked on the playground

 

The whispers behind our backs

The quickly muttered greetings

& sideways glances

Hands held between people

 

But not ours.

We shared our lunch with

No one on a picnic blanket

Meant for two.

 

Is it the color of our hair

Or the size of our frame

That make them doubt us so?

Or is it that feeling

 

Deep in the gut

Bubbling underneath the awareness

That’s let them know

Something sinister is lurking?

Medicine

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The dizziness overwhelms

And she finds it hard to take a step

 

Not ready to let go of the banister to

Stand on her own two feet

 

The nausea comes next

In waves

 

Sort of like pregnancy

But there’s nothing to look forward to here

 

Like the smell of a newborn

Cuddled in her arms

 

Just the loneliness surrounding

And the palpable metallic taste

 

That comes and goes in her mouth

Reminding her she’s made of flesh and blood

 

Reminding her what she puts in must

Find release, somehow

 

The healing will come, with time,

But withdrawal is a different beast altogether

 

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Goodbye

We stayed on shore
As you floated past us
In your restful bed

The end wasn’t as you expected
You didn’t suffer
And we didn’t cry

But I smiled
To know that things
Would be different now

The leaves changed from pink to
Gold when the lights danced over
Them on the dark water

And my breath caught
In my throat
As your blood swirled with the tide

Salt mixing with life
Preserving it, holding it tight
Until I see you again

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Re-Do

What works for me?
What pushes me to be better?
Who gets to see that part of me?
Apart from all the bull shit.

Apart from the burden I feel
Every time I wake up
The choices I’ve made
Have led me here

Have led me away from you
But in another time &
Another place
I would be with you,

Holding your hand
Smiling
Instead of sitting here
Alone, Stagnant

Trapped by what I’ve chosen
What wouldn’t I give up now
To go back and decide again
To make that defining choice, differently

To walk into the sunset with you
Instead of turning back
And choosing familiar
Over the new possible.

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Husband

I take care of him
It’s all he asks for
But it’s a mighty request

Shopping, cleaning, laundry
Cooking, working, loving
Caring, caressing, covering

I was alone for most of the weekend – any activities away from the house, and he wasn’t there. I don’t mind leaving him be. I’ve been there – in isolation, not wanting any help, so I understand. Sometimes the only way out is through, but it does get lonely. And I do need help.

And then he grumbles
When I ask him to
Wash the dishes

Like a spoiled child
Expecting ownership
Of his caste.

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Your Body

I reach across the sheets to make sure you’re still there. Your nighttime habit of coming to bed late leaves me scared of being forgotten, deep into the night. The shallow breaths of sleep, for me, are interrupted by the worry that something’s wrong, and so I wake and check, continually.

They say it’s part of my OCD. Compulsive checking way into the night, but I know that’s only partly true. Compulsive, yes. Obsessive – perhaps, but not disordered. Not in the least. There is an order to my madness. A yearning to be close to you – to feel the heat rising off your body. So, I lie in bed, night after night, waiting for the hours to tick by until you join me.


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The Pain of Adolescence

Too much time has passed to save her.

All that’s left is a hollow

Right here in my chest.

I miss her – the fun we used to have –

The realness & fullness between us –

Ripe, like summer fruit.

The juice drips as I take a bite

And taste the flavor – remembering her.

All that’s left is an image of a scared

Girl in a box, trapped – cowering down as

The walls move inward to flatten her

New world. I can’t reach her, try as I might

To lift her out – to tell her (convince her) none

Of it matters – it’s not real.  But I can’t get

To her. The walls are too thick – she

Can’t hear me above her own pain.

Fifteen years is a long time to wait to wake up.

The scariest part is I think she may

Still be asleep, not realizing she’s not a

Scared kid anymore &

The four walls of high school are

Never coming back.