revertebrae

[revertebrae]

more than once, i met him, shacked up in the far end of the hallway. his face was pasty, cracked, dry- his eyes would always be down, looking to the floor, bags stacked onto dark circles. we never spoke, but when i did walk past him, i gave a silent nod, to say that i knew he was there. he was always in the same gray suit, with the same look, with the same cracks on his face. one day, i assumed he’d move, one day i assumed he would get up and speak, but none of these things ever happened.

it’s unholy.

each time, i’d walk away from him and worry that he’d gotten up and then worry again that maybe he was following me, but when i looked behind, he was still where i left him. i’d carry my books all the way to the end of the hallway, make a left, and leave the building.

in my car, i’d be alone, and the man would still be in the building, and i’d be wondering if he had, indeed, followed me while i wasn’t looking. and that now, he was standing behind my car, but i’d breathe, and when i reversed and looked behind me, it was always clear.

i don’t think i’m scared of him.

but i do think he’s always there.

2015

[revertebrae]

a mother was what happened held tight to her skin stretched her till she tipped over can you remember the moment of your conception, cain, can you hear abel crying for you in your mother’s womb? are you scared about the mark you walk with, how many nights have you slept with your eyes closed tight?

moses, i have waited so long like you, i have been in the desert, it’s on my skin, dirty, itchy you said God led you out of the desert but i’ve yelled for so long and i hear nothing do i wait 40 years till God burns that bush or can i?

i’ve only been alive 19 years and weight packs down onto my shoulders till i shrink and squeeze into boxes so tight i could hear my breath against the cardboard feel the moisture soften the tip of my nose

2015

[revertebrae]

ownership

the deed to my soul was once handed over to the world on a silver platter, i told them that they could buy and sell me as they please

currently

the papers to my citizenship for a country i cannot go to they wait for me at a consulate, stamped ready to be shipped off to hell

eventually

i will come to terms with the undeniable inability to control my life and remember that it was always something to be enjoyed

[revertebrae]

a second passes before you realize that you’re with her again. you’re always like this, fading into and out of where you are. this time she’s grasping onto one of your shoulders and biting at your ears.

you spent your whole life far away from reality that when it hits you, like right now, you’re there motionless and afraid of the answers you’ll have to give to the many questions she’ll have.

so instead of asking, of being forthcoming, you wait for her responses. but, it’s funny, she’s always been obvious. she bites at your ears, she claws at your chest, for god’s sake. and for every finger she lays on you, she gives you some of her body heat. and you take it, you take it all in. not a soul on earth could tell you’ve been together as long as you have, it seems like she’s in love with a shell.

it’s not that you’re scared of her. she’s always there, waiting, hoping, and in some way that comforts you. it’s not that you’re scared at all, in fact. it’s more like the impending disaster you see waiting for you on the horizon, just at the very end of the earth, you know something is out there and that it could hurt her, it could hurt you, all the things that you decided were worth something would unravel and the universe you built around you would split into something and become ugly.

like this, you spend your time inside your head. the world around you is in so many different colors and you can’t process it anymore. not like you were once able to. nothing seems real anymore. you stumble around corners of your home and try to assemble all the pieces back together as it all breaks apart at the seams, you act like you’re still in control. there’s a divide you’ve made in your life, two separate worlds that you’ve spent years building a wall between, and you can feel them mixing together and forming this disgusting soup. you’re becoming transparent and everyone and every thing is laughing at you.

you ask her to hold you, and she does. she always does.

2015

[revertebrae]

surprisingly,

i think you’re super hot in a way that i can’t control, see

you’re body feels like it belongs to me in the moment that i have you it feels like you’re something to be possessed by me

i think about it every waking moment, there is a silence in my car that is deafening, on my drives home, landscapes rising and falling

trees in full blossom, it’s spring and the fruit of all the death that loomed in the winter has come to it’s fruition, see,

it all reminds me of you a gut reaction to something that i see as beautiful it’s like you’re all the things i desired and ignored, for years and years, it’s like

i forgot all about you. and then i remembered you again.

[revertebrae]

after i felt several of them around my waist i pinned down the hand i thought was most important i gripped tight and swiped every other one off and while i felt the sweat slide between our skin i asked one very important question and threw away a lifetimes worth of hidden thoughts into someone whose palms i barely know

before i let this hand in between my thighs i asked if it knew how much heat my body makes and if it knew that i was always very scared of hands my thighs were once black and blue my hands trembled behind doors to keep them closed the walls used to shake there i was holding many hands

in dry cold your fingers become old and cracked i can feel the crevices in your palms and the dirt in between their nails your hands are covered in sinful things

but, if you crumble while you’re with me, i’ll hold you so, catch me, catch me

2015

[revertebrae]

one day i opened up

instead of sucking in the entirety of my timeline into my abdomen and closing

i was grabbed by the chord of my heart and swallowed into the core of the earth

when i was there i had met someone quiet and still made out of metal that no fire could be hot enough to melt and i tried to tap at their exterior hoping i would be let in

i nested and i waited for a reply

i could hear the oceans that were leagues above me crashing into sandy beaches of every continent the wind howled and asked me how long i planned on staying and i screamed saying i’ll be here till i know, [i’ll be here till i know]

if i broke a sweat i ignored it if i tried to sleep i slapped myself awake

then it came to pass that this metal someone had made a clanking noise, i looked up

my hair was stuck to my skin and my clothes were drenched in sweat and i heard something … faint in their chest … i walked up and put my ear there

i breathed in and out and they breathed in and out

finally they said hollow, lifeless all enthusiasm lost over time air rushing out of them into a large sigh “why did you stay?”

one day i opened up

one day the earth swallowed me whole

every day since i have been free

2015

[revertebrae]

In former days we’d both agree That you were me, and I was you. What has now happened to us two, That you are you, and I am me?

-Bhartrhari (5th Century)

[revertebrae]

I wanted to be sure to reach you; though my ship was on the way it got caught   in some moorings. I am always tying up   and then deciding to depart. In storms and   at sunset, with the metallic coils of the tide   around my fathomless arms, I am unable   to understand the forms of my vanity   or I am hard alee with my Polish rudder   in my hand and the sun sinking. To   you I offer my hull and the tattered cordage   of my will. The terrible channels where   the wind drives me against the brown lips   of the reeds are not all behind me. Yet   I trust the sanity of my vessel; and   if it sinks, it may well be in answer   to the reasoning of the eternal voices, the waves which have kept me from reaching you.

“To the Harbormaster” -Frank O’Hara

[revertebrae]

If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression Of something beautiful, but annihilating. Both of you are great light borrowers. Her O-mouth grieves at the world; yours is unaffected, And your first gift is making stone out of everything. I wake to a mausoleum; you are here, Ticking your fingers on the marble table, looking for cigarettes, Spiteful as a woman, but not so nervous, And dying to say something unanswerable. The moon, too, abuses her subjects, But in the daytime she is ridiculous. Your dissatisfactions, on the other hand, Arrive through the mailslot with loving regularity, White and blank, expansive as carbon monoxide. No day is safe from news of you, Walking about in Africa maybe, but thinking of me.

“The Rival” -Slyvia Plath

[revertebrae]

“I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long. -“Tonight I Can Write” Pablo Neruda

[revertebrae]

"appetite"

a lobster, cooked, bright red buttery, soft, i said that this is the kind of thing that i like something i can chew on, pair it with my favorite bread a sourdough maybe a nice vegetable seared and the placed in the oven to reach that level of crispiness that makes even your mouth water something i like to watch you do

my belly is large, expansive, and it fantasizes about eating things that it cannot afford, "maybe i could eat it" it thinks but when it comes time to pay...

i lug in a piggy bank drop it up onto the counter "i have saved up so much since i was young, it must be enough"

hammered open, i find that i never had a single cent.

[revertebrae]

mud smeared over eyelids dried crusted cracked stretching

i sat streetside that day unaware that it was  the Lord that washed me clean

[revertebrae]

[revertebrae]

[revertebrae]

the curve of the road on the side of the mountain reminds one of all the ways that one could die. as you drive along it, all you see are the steep hills that canvas the valley below. the river, cutting through the valley, still but somehow pushing forward. you are something small, and this mountain, reminding you just by it’s existence, keeps you humble. i think, “if i were at the top, could i breathe?” or “imagine all the ways you could slide right down and fall off!” 

the rain falling off the rocks, there’s a fog that clothes the side of this mountain. the bridge you crossed to get to this road stabs right into the heart of this rock. something like a fairytale, this place, and i happen to drive it every day.