Phantom Limb

Sometimes 
I am surprised when
I catch my thumb searching
Through a different time
For someone else's wedding ring.

You're Welcome?

I'm not your sleeping pill or your shot of vodka

And I am certainly not your mother.

I finally threw your shirt away - after years

Only to discover your voice in my ear 

Shirt is gone. I thought. And I turned without a tear. 

That was it. I thought. The last letting go.

So I wiped my hands clean.

Then my phone rang from a number I didn't know.

You acted as though you were never gone.

How bold and unabashedly selfish.

But I did excitedly say, hello.

Then you appeared at my door

Because I left it wide open.

Now you seem to think you are welcome.

Dear Unavailable,

When I said "You're hot"
It turns out I meant cold
I can't tell what you are -
Or what you're not
And it's really getting old.

Sincerely,
Letting Go

Be Careful What You Wish For

7.23.2015

Biopsy.
Polyps.
History.
Cancer.
Waiting.

I'm writing these words because I need to
Before the results come, before I know
Because my abdomen has been a war zone
And I'm not sure if I can take any more
Not without knowing what I'm fighting.
Part of me wants to hear, "It isn't anything"
But I need an answer, I want an answer
What if it's nothing? What if it's cancer?
I need validation for all of this pain.

I've never been careful with what I wish for
Always screaming what I want when I want it
What if my body heard me crying out
And gave me something to complain about?

No Poetry

There's this poetry inside me,
Words spinning around,

All this truth looking for a way out
Past the walls I've built -
- from everything we've lied about
From a foundation of fear and doubt

So my pen lies still, the paper is clear
But my mind is not

Because I'm afraid of what's in here
What has been lurking and how much?
What lies have been told, for how long?
Mostly, who have these lies fucked?

There's only so long I can stay
There's only so much I can take

Before this poetry ruptures this page.

Just Ask

When I was a small girl, I sat in my grandmother’s yard with watermelon juice dripping down my chin. Once the juicy pink triangle disappeared, I examined the white colored piece of the rind and took a bite. I worried it might not be good for me, but Mum said it was okay. I continued taking bites until the white section was gone. And even though the rind was bitter, I settled for it with the hope of staying connected to the bright sweetness of the watermelon’s pink flesh.

Dear Small Girl, 

     Please, please just ask for a new slice. 

With Love, 

Lessons Learned.

Depression

She whispers in your ear that it's okay

That sinking back down is fine

The discomfort becomes a marinade

To soak in, to simmer, to lie
She wraps you in a cold blanket
Chills you until your body aches
Numbs you to the point you think - 

Won't it be nice for a minute?

To bathe in warm tears and call it an illness?

Unresting Ghosts

Lurking un-sublty,
Whispering untruths,
Revealing evil,
Only I can refuse;
Screeching memory
Breathes ghastly things
From closets of the past
That fling noisily open.

Either Way, I'm Here

For Kaden

Let me hold your hand, and I will hold it tightly
Until a looser grip suits your stability
And when your palm aches to feel the breeze of independence,
And your soles of your feet wish to walk unassisted,
I will stand beside you so that we both feel the wind on our faces
But if the wind blows too hard, my shoulder is there
We can sway together with the wind in our hair -
Until it becomes time again to step forward
I want to help you find what you're looking for
Let me walk near you so that even in your solitude,
You can derive comfort from the things I wish for you.

The Bottom of the Glass

There's a care-free - care-less? side of me that pours the wine

And toasts to you - to us. We are happy. But there is also a side -

- an exposed nerve that is struck with each can's opening crack

Burdened memory begs, "Are things as good as they seem?"

I hastily gulp my wine to drown the doubt. I say I'm fine. 

We? are? fine? Logical Thinking looks for a way out, 

Edges of the lies stab from the inside-out
My breath reeks heavily of doubt
Another glass tells me it's okay

The pain pretends to go away

But 

my 

memory 

can't help 

but maintain

every reminder from a sopping wet past.

There is no way out from the bottom of the glass.