Monthly Archives: July 2017

Mother,
you always call me
your angel,
but the halo
has fallen over my neck
like a golden collar.
I’m tired of being their dog,
I’m ready for it to tighten.
We were star crossed,
but we sewed our stars together,
tying the threads of our existence into one interrupted light.
We used that light to guide us home,
over and over again.
Until, one day, you started following a broken compass,
slowly untying yourself from me,
and allowing my stars to fall like a torn pearl necklace.
I clung on to a piece of our fading fabric
and now I use it to dry my tears.
I see our picture glimmering in the cloth
and my tears still pray to us
as I sit under a flickering streetlight,
pretending it is the star of your touch,
at the dark corner of forgiveness and heartbreak.
You tore a hole
in the ozone layer
of my love,
and then asked me
why you got burned.
Don’t worry,
blistered hearts
heal stronger.
You, like the rest of them,
will turn out fine,
and I will just remain
torn.
You wanted to save me.
You put my despair
on the operating table of my brain.
You strapped it down.
It was supposed
to be a corrective surgery,
but it went wrong,
there’s blood everywhere,
and now despair bleeds
from my eyes,
those pulsing exit wounds.
You wanted to save me,
and I wanted to be me.
I hear the drumbeats of my ancestors
in my bones,
you will feel them reverberate from my knuckles,
you will hear the elders’ electric tongues
sing for you in lightning flashes
from my hands.
Every strike you land
will cause my own blood to speak to me,
mortality’s voice to singing to me
in salty lyrics trickling down my throat.
The song will tell chant for me to kill you.
I will paint you with my thunder,
and make you unrecognizable,
my name will tremble down your skin,
and remain echoing in your ears,
getting caught in your mouth,
and gagging you
when you try repeating it.
Defeat does not rest easy within me.