please lift me, lift me
the worms are making their way
into my nostrils as we speak
please fix me, fix me
bones are broken, can barely crawl
I am so weak
please save me, save me
soul left, sin eating me up
I’m not complete
please forgive me, forgive me
washed ashore, no breath left. rocked to death, their
life emptied into the torturous sea
that swallowed them. promising them lives, but
it brought them back against the wood, against
the rocks. their pale faces charred from the sun,
their thinning brows white with salt. their hopeful
black hair tangled with the splinters, their bones
rattling, their bones done. I pray God saved them,
even if they didn’t believe. please let
there be some mercy in that mystery.
but I’m afraid there are more coming, more
running, being chased, fearful, while ever
so mournful. lost ones being swallowed up
by the sea, washed ashore with no breath left.
To calm your wild
I’d give my life
stop being a mother
stop being a wife
To calm your wild
I’d except my tired eyes
die a painful death
swim in a storm of lies
To calm your wild
I’d do anything
stop being human
crumble my beating heart
become a thing
To calm your wild
for you to have a life?
I’d do these things
I wouldn’t think twice
there’s a suitcase in the far corner of my closet
the older one with the worn brown
checkerboard pattern and a faded luggage tag
can’t make out the name any longer
not going anywhere anyway
and if I pretend
the flattened leather handle still feels warm
probably from when you used it last
back when life was happy and our souls were stronger
sometimes when things get loud
I want to place a blanket in that suitcase,
in the far corner of my closet,
crawl inside, zip it up and lie
quietly, silently
will he find me
I want to say aloud
but I don’t dare make a sound
these days, these long days
after the first door slam, I want to bolt
run far before the terror takes hold
but no
I have to stand there and take it
stand there and stand there
stand there and fake it
place my trembling hands in my pockets
ignore my heart pounding in my ears
taste the rapid beats, choke them down
why is it getting so difficult
I’ve been doing this for years
every time I enter my closet
I give that suitcase an extra glance
maybe one day I could do it
run quick when I have the chance
when I’m first warned
place a blanket inside, make it cozy and warm
crawl inside, zip it up
lie quietly, silently battered and worn
When she be coming for me
in the wee hours of the morn
it’ll be the same as
when I had no breath
the moment I was born
When she be coming for me
wearing her soft gown of white
riding the tails of wind
in the blackest part of night
She be coming for me
the dreams foretold
left me hiding scared
under a blanket
with arms scarred up and old
She’ll leave the door open
as if in a trance
the zephyr will try to usher her back
I’ll whisper for one more chance
When she be coming for me
I’ll hear the gale swoosh down the hall
sound so deafening
you won’t even hear my call
When she be coming for me
her hair still wet with dew
kindness shining bright as stars
her eyes the palest hue
She be coming for me as
old man Winter blows in the snow
the floorboards will creak and crack
I’ll witness the last of my tears
before I have to go
When she be coming for me
in the wee hours of the morn
off and away I’ll be
and
when we meet again
dear one
we’ll just have to
wait and see
i hate it that i made that sound
when my flesh was torn
and thrown on the ground
i saw my skin flapping
my blood begging to stay
i took a look
and
you were running away
Do you remember that glass
shattered on the floor?
The one I told you about last week?
A week has gone by,
and now I’ve become her.
The one who’s broken,
The one who’s scarred,
The one who’s screaming
for her son
to come back to her.
Do you remember the seashore? Do you remember the water? How it cooled us, held us, renewed us that day on the shore.
That day where we escaped what we’re going through and just focused on the crests of foam breaking down as it came in twos, chasing each other; only to be crushed by the bigger waves that almost always followed. It always seems to follow. But for those few hours – we pretended that it would not. We closed our eyes and felt the sun soothe us, we calmed our trembling brains. We breathed in the salt air – tasted it on our lips. Breathed it in again and held our breath. Is this what peace feels like? Stillness. Roaring in our ears.
Opposite of being lost in the fire where our whispers turn to shouts. Remembering all the battles, but the scars we’ve lost count. Fleeing from the panicked, pale creature with the crazed blue eyes and drowning out the threats to die, his sighs, the cries.
Perhaps that is why I liked it there, I’m nothing compared to that vast place. In that place, I was only between the sand and the sun; I wasn’t an emotional stress ball for my autistic son.
That day, I reclined and watched you play in the water. The sun sprayed off your back and you looked happy. The possibilities were endless and you sang with the mermaids in my dreams that night. I watched the seagulls choreograph a flight to the violins that played in my head. Those beautiful violins. Is this what mercy feels like? Those moments, that place.
they found her under the bed
her eye sockets filled with moths
about 39 days she
must
have been
judging by the size of
the wings on those moths
she had been quite the beauty
they said
quite the opposite of how
she looked
when
they found her under that bed
I long to surrender
to the rainfall;
feel wet hair
against my cheek.
Laugh until I feel hollow,
cry until I can’t speak.
I long to surrender
to the rainfall;
feel the drops travel
down my spine.
Hear the rain clouds
murmur,
“you are as good as mine.”
Fall into the emptiness
away from all my fears.
Oh, how I long to surrender,
surrender all my tears.
The Tape House 