Verbatim

I’ve mastered the art of applying band-aids over axe wounds With magical mommy kisses Suddenly everything is all better, right? Turning away blindly Ignoring the smell of rotting flesh Infection spreading to my chest, my throat, my words Resentment echoes between nouns and verbs I can hardly take action Paralyzed by what I need to do Feeding into distractions to feel momentary escape From the copious helpings on my plate With no one to help me finish it I am a strong goddess I got it… I’ll be okay I’ve been drowning for a while Deciding how to breathe underwater My gills are learning to adjust To breathing in the mud They want money, they want blood They wanna see me in a standstill Hovering closely  With a magnifying glass over this anthill Burning my feelers… until I’m numb  And all I have left is to get this shit done Pick myself up like I always have Because I’ve never needed a handout Just a hug, or someone to say Everything will be okay We can take this day by day togeth...

Beads form upon brow Call it summer swelter Or perhaps nerves  Gut inhale Arid atmosphere  Cotton lungs whistle Through humid crowds Deaf to screaming parties Dry room Drier mouth Making movements in the form of song lyrics turned strangers Nice to see you again, old chap Classic words from tired faces Shadows of memorial avatars  From simpler times Of less games, Or maybe just more fun Nostalgia is a mood Awakening parts of us in pieces One-liners And hidden melodies Parts of us we’d forgotten Like hard concrete Under heavy feet Dragging the weight of the air upon our shoulders Straps slip As I find a way To slip away to an easy exit Excursion to transportation We should stop for more water These hot days wield hotter nights Some may find refreshing

Sickness Spreads her wings like wildfire Simultaneously slow decay Waiting game Disintegrating every body inside out I’m tired, I’m okay   Hanging onto words I say delicately Afraid they might out me Reveal magicless scribbles  Posing desperately As creative word counts And clever manuscripts Five to six lines at a time My mind is distracted Extracting only little bites Of my true thoughts I am less poet than human these days Finding ways around Vulnerability It hurts too much to express directly So I dress her up prettily Refine her curls softer, More easily managed No one has to know of these frayed ends slowly coming undone Too damaged for anything but to be cut and forgotten I struggled to wake up the other morning Mourning the loss of my fire Sickness spreading like water Prose smudged in salt splatter Thank you for listening Admittedly I’m not even fully awake yet I clear my throat Choke on lost words Pen my antidote So I can face this pain in silence I don’t feel so muc...