Opportunity is knocking
And I'm answering the door That's been closed so long The hinges have rusted The fear that it will squeal as I wrench it ajar Lodged in my throat I can't say hello Or ask why you've come I have stories to tell A voice grown hoarse from disuse I couldn't recite them to myself The endings all given away Nobody else to hear So I took a vow of silence Even inside my head I'm unprepared for guests Cupboards bare But for the crumbs he left behind I've been living on stubbornness and steel My body turned resolute and hard I stopped the want Denied the need I ignored their calls Didn't recognize the number But I'm opening the door And there's a bead of sweat Trailing down my lower back Because your eyes are open and kind And I could use some fresh air
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It would seem I have found
Without really looking An alchemist's crucible The secret to gold A vessel to contain To transform My baser aspects And make them shine I tried to throw them away Once Again and again Striving to disintegrate The integral Always returning In places I wouldn't look The corners I didn't dust I could have sworn I thought it was just a bowl Magic not forthcoming As it was nothing I'd ever seek I wanted something to hold To cup warm in my hands To turn blue fingers pink It could simply be a trick of light The dull glinting back But I like the look of it Finally I was never afraid
Of the things in your dark They were yours and you'd tamed them Nuzzling an outstretched palm Bellies upturned and lolling side to side It's my own that creep In broad day Wild and snarling Fresh blood on the tips of their nails I ask them what it's from and I know they lie I go to bed Wake with pinkened sheets Aging welts still raised On the hidden parts of me I know what they're doing I don't want to let them I want them tranquil and cooing Harmless under my command But my words have no force More breath than sound And they chortle at my failure Dragging one claw at a time As I stare at the clouds Moonlight reflecting on fresh fallen snow
Brightening my night dark bed Silence blanketing me like flannel And I am warm despite the chill I will wake in the dark Hope for a miracle Disappointment in my bones The trees heavy with it Creaking Snapping It isn't winter It never is I keep waiting for the weather to turn For sunshine and green things Growth and renewal springing lithe But the snow keeps falling I keep shoveling My feet leaving divots in the drifts Five stages
Where you are required to perform Five sets of steps to climb Five songs to sing Acts to deliver Steps to dance One foot ascending at a time You find the X marking center Refusing to believe that this is what's now expected You breathe in someone else's breath Stammer thin notes in another voice A squeak and a shake These are not yours You did not make them Couldn't possibly Your monologue is screamed Guttural and glistening with spit The red veil coloring your audience Shadowboxing a foe who has already fled A shock you could possibly lose a fight That has already been lost If you soft-shoe in precisely the right beat It will all come back to you Your breath Your voice Your vision Your sparring partner A chance for victory These don't come back You should have waltzed when you tapped The stairs are too high So you sit Unable to move Tears leave salt trails drying on your cheeks Not bothering to wipe them This is supposed to be the map This is meant to show the way What happens when you reach acceptance but it's you you can't accept? You were never worth
The lost sleep Or the ceaseless tearing blame Your vehement reassurances rang hollow Your tin can telephone string cut long ago The words "I'm a good man" Should never need to leave your lips "I'm a nice guy" is only a patch in gouged frosting There's a rose missing And pink on your chin Sugar on your breath But it's stale underneath Tear your hair in frustration Contemplate loss in a bottle I still won't come back To soothe your self inflicted wounds Or sop up your sick You've made a mess Someone else has always cleaned up I hate to inform you That I am not a maid Though I'd wear the uniform well They called it a sad boy weekend
Spending time with two men So similar to one another They can't stand each other's company Each in a different shade of the grey spectrum After their perfect wife left them One's been out the other side His life still in scattered chunks around him The edges refusing to match So he doesn't bother to pick them up anymore The other has just been told A spiral begun Without knowing how many times there are to turn The light still plays tricks on him She might change her mind But she's let an apartment She won't tell him where Theirs is too redolent Of dried tears and spent rage to stay Because it's more than chipping ice from the walk Or bringing in the trash can It's reaching a hand across the couch cushion Letting cold toes wriggle between your shins It was shunning her into silence Verbal stilettos deflating her joy Until the words wouldn't come And the music wouldn't play And she grew cold and quiet inside A soul in torpor It doesn't matter if he meant it It matters what he did If she cried and wouldn't tell him why While he looked anywhere but the mirror Her confession was more wasted precious breath Fallen on dumb ears So she glazed over Let the numbness come She waited for spring Dear Democracy,
I don't know where you're going, but I feel like this is a goodbye. I wanted you to know that I've appreciated you, the power of knowing that single votes can make a difference. I've always participated. Ever mindful of the fact that people have always died and will continue to die in pursuit of you, and you have been so very worth each life. I don't know what will take your place. I do know that the gap made in your expected absence is already filling with anger and fear, sadness and suspicion. I know that the next years will be difficult, that everybody will suffer without you. I worry not everybody will see the other side of what's coming, and I don't know what it will take from me. Will I fall before it, or will I be forced to watch, helpless, as someone I love succumbs? I guess that what I'm trying to say is that I'm going to miss you and I don't want you to go, but I understand you feel like you've been taken for granted. I hope you'll consider coming back someday. The climate won't always be so hostile. The uneducated, unintelligent masses won't always hold sway. They're only capable of short term planning, and the strategic long view is not theirs to create or even try to see. There is comfort in the knowledge that they are not, as they believe, in the majority. They merely took advantage of a faulty system, and temporarily disabled all of their own alarms. Ours blared, are still deafening us. All my love. I can feel my guilt
The cumulative weight Of raindrops Frozen on lingering dead leaves In a false January thaw Calling myself a priority As a pretty name for punishment Moving in spite of the ache in my ribs Blisters tearing open with each footfall Saying I didn't notice as they formed Walking on skin turned to bubble wrap Beneath me for days afterward Smiling through the limp Succor in constant movement Distraction from the unceasing tide Of questioning my worth and worthiness You ask me if I'm okay I say I'm the best I've ever been You say I look like a million When I feel like fifty cents It's not a lie Because rubbing two quarters together Is better than a pocket full of lint But it still won't get you anything I told you in quiet syllables
As I ran my fingers slowly through your hair What it takes to silence The hamster wheel ever churning Inside my skull I've narrowed my own options Possibly given you more Places to go Ways to get there Escape hatches from the waking cage And the deafening bars that bind If I've done this right Made my places yours Your breathing will slow with the beating of your heart Your eyelids will be weighted And you will hear the buffeting of imaginary wings Beating behind your closed eyes Rushes of air felt but not seen You will not notice the gurgling of my stomach Or the twitch in my thigh I hope you slip into dreams Consciousness resistant to release As you question the unreality of events And the scenes begin to play I hope you meet the kind ones you don't yet know But if you don't I will still be here When you come back |