you share the lightness of the small-eared soul
wandering behind your lifting heels—
they've never known the touch of ground
nor dirt nor stone have brushed against them.
and your eyes need not lift towards the sky;
your head is already haloed by rings of rock and light
not unlike a planet or a god
but you haunt across this rough earth watching
and you never change a whisker or speak a whisper.
it seems you'll meet your death
long before you meet your fate.
It's hard to exist as myself when I've been other people for as long as I can remember:
I was a murderer one long summer
And a spirit the next.
For nights one year I was burning for the dead
Leaping off cliffs for broken promises
Shuddering at phantom trains hurtling ever closer.
I sleep better on other people's couches than I ever slept in my own bed.
i.
arms spread forever outward, tremendous like birds, Afraid,
silent like fallen birds, necks snapped by foxes hungry in the cold
hungry like foxes gaunt in the empty of the spring that never came and will never be
faces in the water gulping thirsty around fish that swim on unperturbed and unknowing
fish that never make it back up the wetless river to where they began
beginning again around beings now more rock than tree
arms spread outward like wings, fingertips pleading for an easier ending,
ii.
bricks are scattered; they have tumbled
from every house and every wall
but nobody's waited to watch them crumble.
there are no eyes to see them fall
iii.
arms outstretched forever, unmoving amidst dead palaces and unquiet voices
that were never attached to a body or a thought
but simply sprang out of the silence to give words to a void
that never needed them to be heard
armless but endless and unbeginning
i'm Tired and soon i'll be Alone.
i forget that i'm meant to sleep and to speak
to exist and to breathe.
if i lack control, then it's not my fault.
if i lack a voice, then i'm the one to blame.
so puppeteer me, and i'll obey:
i'm Tired and soon i'll be Alone,
so why fight?
tell me what to do,
and i'll speak when i'm spoken to,
sleep through the night
eat what i'm given
and never drink my fill.
Don't end up like me, children;
I wandered where I willed
Be it path or darkened wood.
I never learned how to tell 'evil' from 'good'.
Don't look at me, children;
I fell from all I loved.
And who made the fatal choices? I,
Lucky to have even said goodbye.
Don't listen to me, children;
I may look human to you,
But I'm every mistake and nothing more,
A cautionary tale for you to ignore.
The thought of the sound of your voice makes me sick
Knowing you're right there beside makes me shudder
I'd run but I know that you'd follow.
My brain won't let my mouth possess speech
I sit still twisted and keep tapping out
Tick tick tick tick tick until one of us snaps—
I spend nights dismantling my teeth til I wake
And I wake babbling too scared to think
Unearthing deficiencies better left buried
You tell me that all of this is by choice
Give me a choice! I will choose not to break
Tap instead tick tick tick tick tick til I'm fine
flames reach out for some far away freedom
like so many broken-footed angels
stalking like glitches behind their prey
calling "sister, sister, we love you
but we must obey" and the youngest's quieted lips
once disagreed with the storm
but no more now they are all alone
and the hero most of all: a dragon-skinned girl
too hungry to think
wanting nothing more than to go home
and a home to go to
Their smiles crumble you into the dust
Speaking of promises broken, and trust
Their voices shatter you into the ground
You struggle to keep in mind love that you've found—
Oh, dear child, will you ever learn?
Friendship's a privilege you've yet to earn.
Their smiles shake you and fill you with rage
You'll never succeed—you tear up the page—
Their voices shatter you into the sand
Your efforts unnoticed, they're mocking you, and—
Oh, dear child, will you ever see?
Yourself is the one thing you never can be.
And every the smiling chorus sings on:
You could give up if you wanted.
You could keep dragging your burden around,
Or you could give up if you wanted.
I was so scared, I think, of strangling
Of my roots closing me from the world
They stuck in my throat and clawed at my eyes
Pulled at my blood and drew tight
And here I am sitting in the dark with the soles of my feet rubbed raw
Wishing for light, wishing to be ready to grow again
I used to cry to myself at night
(Salted earth won't let plants grow)
And I used to let roots choke words from my throat
Until in my defense I made not a sound
As my roots rooted me to a spot on the ground
And I watched those I loved turn away and let go
(Salted earth won't let plants grow)
I used to sit all alone in the dark
(Sunlight can make a plant grow)
I used to pull my roots from the ground
I used to say, "No, I'm going to be free
And these roots unrooted cannot hold me
And in this darkness they cannot take hold"
(Sunlight can make a plant grow)
But darkness grows lonely and salt can't sustain
And every winter gives way to spring—
Maybe this isn't all I have lost
Maybe this soil isn't ideal
But I'll never survive if I'm here on my own:
Roots are what let a plant grow.
the houses are empty, now,
all the drowned bodies gone with the morning bright
when they opened the doors, the streets flooded.
the fields were damp for days; no one would enter the stables
or the kitchens or the bedrooms.
too light, now, with the doors open
too light, now, with the surfaces dry
and the bodies gone.
The healer said, "You've troubles seen,
But that need not be true.
I can take them from your mind,
And they'll not bother you."
"I've traveled far," the stranger said,
"And many people known,
Who've taken deals like this one here,
Though from themselves alone.
"I have spent my time with them,
And I can tell you now:
They all know where they are in life
But not a one knows how.
"Their skin bears not a mark of shame
Nor of pride or regret;
They face each day as if brand new.
They've chosen to forget.
"I can not make such a choice,
For if I ever try,
I would be myself no longer.
I would surely die.
"My skin has healed time and again;
Sometimes no mark I bear.
But scars I carry all the same,
Though no one can see where.
"Heal the bruises, if you wish,
And anything you see.
Mend my bones," the stranger said,
"But leave my scars to me."
You can't redact a poem, see;
The secrets given just to me
By a rhyme made clear can be.
So I must leave this poem be;
No art's worth more than trust in me,
And no one else can ever see.
I make my own gods, broken like me;
They break each other, they make the world crooked
And I say, look,
This is the best there is
And the worst. The gods are broken,
As is the world,
As am I.
In lieu of flowers at your grave,
Your life I would have tried to save
I know I'd have no right to try—
But how could I just let you die?
Against your will, I'd keep you here
For my own selfishness and fear.
It would be cruel, to steal your end;
I would be jailer more than friend
But given means to stop your death
I would have kept you drawing breath
And safe from every source of hurt
In lieu of flowers and a layer of dirt.