darlings i am sorry to be absent but my
grandfather has passed away
from this earth and from
me and i am finding
it hard to find
a pause: your hand in minea pause: by SuddenlyAutumn
palm to palm
like our skin had always
spoken this language,
always been fluent
in the fingerprints
of each other.
every chance i didn't take Iyour hand in mine as you prayedevery chance i didn't take I by SuddenlyAutumn
to a god who might save you.
your suicide note and the words
to your father, brothers, oh christ,
my tears on your shirt as i
sobbed for everything i had lost
and the god who did not hear me.
the river stones under my legs and
the lights on the bridge in the night.
bruises on my shoulders and i hope
they never fade.
your big truck and the scent of
jasmine and the moment i realized
i was happy.
hand out the window
full of mississippi wind.
hair wild and skin stung.
you are beautiful
and i was beautiful for you.
your legs between my knees
as we flew down memphis streets.
the roar of your motorcycle and my smile
that was wider than the open highway.
the wind that took my blue dress
as i watched you lift the gun
ready, aim, trigger.
someday i will cut my hairsomeday i will cut my hair,someday i will cut my hair by SuddenlyAutumn
let the dresser do her worst
will watch the ends go first, light
from holding all of the sun, hear the
sharpness of the shears, will feel
buoyant, and alright
and leave the dark waves behind --
someday i will bind my hands
with golden bands, will let a
man lace his fingers
through the spaces between mine,
palm to palm, squeezing tight
like a promise kept
but not yet, not yet -
for now i will spread my
fragmentdo you ever see someone broken and thinkfragment by SuddenlyAutumn
i could fix you, i could fix you,
i could fix you gently
in the places that you hurt
do you ever see a pane of glass letting
the day in or keeping out the night
and think, i could break you
i could break you, i could smash
straight through you with these
awful hands of mine
do you ever see someone leaving
and think, you should stay you
should stay, you should stay, you
should moor your ship in this moment
for as long as we both shall live
do you ever see someone glancing up from
the sidewalk and think, you should run
you should run, you should run,
oh girl, he's going to get you
.sometimes the cold holds my hands so tight. by oaklungs
they start to burn, turn red and raw, i know it has
something to say but has no voice
so i must feel the chill instead, it knows
no other way, i know
no other way
that i am thinking of the sun
(the tide comes in and licks her sandy lips, drinks in the moon and i am gone)
with lovei.with love by intricately-ordinary
sleepwalking with stars
like bulletwounds, tonight
is for wandering and
loving people I’ve never met.
I have a hole in my heart for
the boy on my bus who balances
the world on his chin as he sleeps.
I’m drawn to a sunshine girl leaking
beams every time she opens her
mouth to smile. and still, I follow
a boy who walks across clouds;
I want to ask him to send me up
like a balloon.
ways I need to be loved:
a hand heavy on my hip to remind me
gravity is more than an ideal, a
soft kiss to bring me back from
other galaxies, a calm whisper
when I’ve run out of words
but the silence is too
I’m severely broken up,
fragments of words and
heartscraps and sky-pieces;
crawling backwards through
open windows trying to find
a home. I’m trying but
I was untaught how to
function, I’m trying to
be correct. I’m trying to
be normal. I’m trying to
be correct. I’m trying.
words I need to hear:
I Love You. i love you
i love you i lov
.you break free. by oaklungs
from the grip of
just to die in
the arms of the shore
To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget." |
-- Arundhati Roy, The Cost of Living