.i can't sleep and the sky makes me sickMore Like This
it can see you -
but what can i do? untie the limbs
and remove the gag
and let my poetry go,
feel the rivers start emptying
bursting their banks,
pay attention -
your heart was a foreign body, rejected
your hands, your hands had no shame,
greased with blood and losing their grip
on the world, but what could you do?
there was no sense in the way that they
hurt you, the way they poured salt
on the wounds
(the way they smothered one pain with another)
for magdalenei think i’ve figured out the reason you’re sad all the time.More Like This
it has something to do with your mess of a tongue, bitten through
and scarred from the times you’ve tried to hold your words inside.
stop doing that. let them out,
they’re not worth the blood in your mouth.
neither is your parents. and i’m not going to try
and tell you that they’ll understand one day
because some moms and dads never will.
but you’re always gonna have a skyline, you’re
always gonna have something to look forward to.
believe me, the world never ends.
not even on the days you want it to.
not even on the days when you’re looking
for gods in the weirdest places, like the broken
spine of the book you’ve read thirty-four times,
the front seat of your brother’s truck, the gap growing
between your niece’s front teeth, and all the other things
you find holy.
the world doesn’t end; and for that matter, neither do you.
the only thing i learned