“This Is Your Brain On Anxiety” frozen like a rabbit under the shadow of a hawk I’m paralyzed at my desk what did she mean by ‘incident’? why can’t I email [REDACTED]? am I about to be demoted? am I about to be fired? okay okay okay just breathebreathebreathe no, b r e a t […]
Warm water washes through our fingers, climbing through beads of regret and conscience. Condoning its future to visit in another lifetime, down it spread its way through cracks of wrinkled time while crossing each threshold of comfort and normality. After all this time it understands that the world can be a forgiving place as it […]
She retches around your shoulders each night, kissing your neck and caressing your forearms with light touches and clawed fingers. She whispers softly in your ear and she looms on the side of the bathtub, her wings so soft and dark, her red lips glisten as she speaks those words that you’ve heard from her […]
Smooth stones in itchy winter coats float down the bay and around the slope
of lost seasons and picture frames lost in flood plains
of you, holding on to me with strong shoulders, so near your boiling point.
Tire chains were attached and caught on dirty fishing line
call out my name with each creature swimming by,
it carries its message back and fourth to me and to anyone who might lend an ear,
for off-chance of health and holding on to keep from pulling under.
Into the depth of the sea we roll,
around each other’s bodies
and through every siren call,
brushing against small feet and chlorophyl.
Here, we know ourselves better.
You’re probably still sitting there on the floor where I left you.
You refused everything else, but I tried to give you a place where you could rest.
You said you were happier refusing me and my help,
because this act of defiance somehow makes you stronger-minded
and more of a man.
You said you didn’t want my charity
because it has never done anything for you before,
but now I have a bed and a new place to call home
and it would have been part of you.
You said that you had nothing to worry about
because I’d be there with you,
always and forever sure did take a steep turn.
From scratching your head and asking you about your day,
you didn’t know that you could lose a person over this.
Lungs become steam
Clouding out mouth
Raining down mirror,
Window, leaves of reaching houseplants
Spread calmly, greenly as a forest.
My body is full of lavender,
Like the canvas pouches my grandmother
Would bring back from France.
We had our baths at her house
And she’d hold a sea-sponge at the top of our spines
And sigh over our French-ladies’ necks,
Then Grandad would clip our nails.
I made up a heaven for my little sister
That existed down the drain-
It was where all the bubbles popped,
And toys lost went.
I don’t know how we forget our bodies so easily,
How we resist the landscapes that settle there.
Fields of lavender, and garlic leaves,
Cliff faces and rock pools.
Our grandparents let my sister eat
Crab sandwiches, and I remember not figuring
How that white meat came from such stubborn shells
With sharp limbs and pincers
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Source: SALT CIRCLES
The rise and fall of my chest mimics the memory of yours. I wonder what it’s like to not count every second I spend breathing. The rise and fall of my chest is not keeping time with the rushing waltz of my heart, or the steady vibration of blood through every vein running through my […]