I sat on the floor and played solitaire
Skipping meals until there was nothing left of me
But a ghost who sang
Nothing can be trusted
Everything hurts
I thought I went back to normal
It felt like the truth, I was strong
But I didn’t understand how deep it all ran
And how long it could live without air
Quietly changing everything
I lost my friends that year
Hid myself bit by bit
Pretending at me
I didn’t even know what I was doing
So perfect was my suicide
Now that I know it’s there
I can feel it
Twenty seven years later
They had to cut out what you did to me
You were the seed
But I was the gardener
Failing magnificently to recognize my inversion
Smiling all the while
I did it to myself
Buried evidence in my flesh
Sang no more, denying music
At least a decade of numb decay
Spent dying of security
Now that I know it’s there
I pull it close for one last bite
Hold open the wound, let it drain
All that pain, like a box of old nails
The taste of iron
Angry like the sea
How many dreams did I put to sleep?
Like a hypnotist or a dog catcher
Ruthless in my efficiency
They didn’t die but lay in my breast sweating poison
While I nodded and smiled, nodded and smiled
Was the Pleaser born then?
In that year and ever after
My generosity became self-immolation
I set myself on fire and danced
For whoever shot at my feet
And it felt like devotion
I didn’t notice the bullets or that some of them killed me
Windows appear in the cell that I built
Sunshine splashes like paint where I sat
Endlessly playing cards with myself
The girl (she was still just a girl) looks up
We mourn the wasted time between us
While Little Earthquakes plays
It feels good to put this down
The words, the burden, the mad dog
I am
Lucky I can still laugh
Lucky I can still breathe
Lucky the worm only ate part of me
Before I saw its blind eyes and touched its soft head
Let it go now
There will be no more internal bleeding
Only scars
Very powerful. Great imagery. So glad you are writing and publishing again. It must feel good.
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It does feel good! There are a lot of tools I used to use to process emotions and events in my life. I’m picking them up again, one by one. And I find, now that I’m older, that I can use them more effectively.
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