i left myself prune in the bathtub over an hour
the ice climbed up my limbs
(my brain uncaring)
the darkness tiptoed in
(my brain left staring)
incoherent
the synapses snap in static
frantic and erratic
filling my head
filling my eyes
filling all of me
the image of you
when you were alive and whole
when you were mine and twenty-nine
(as i am now, yours and twenty-nine with a month to go)
your name is a blessing–
an oath and a breaking
fit for prising open near to skinning
the wound that runs the length of me
from hollow throat to empty womb
(and every acre between)
in the dream you whispered
how happy you were i finally came
me, foreveralice, crossing the chessboard tentatively
heart thundering in voracious despairing silence
you, the cheshire cat, disappearing
in the dream you snaked closer and through me
leaving nothing sacred as you unzipped and seared
and smelted yourself afresh in my core
and you told me nuzzling
that you had waited so long
the three nails of crucifixion, kissing through my heart:
and i shuddered to ask (i couldn’t) what is it that you know
for how else could you think
i came to your forever
to leave all the rest behind
suitcased and rotting and left in that attic
that my life sometimes seems
in the years gifted me, without your breath to fill it
it tears me to pieces
it squeezes my two lemon eyes to juices and seeds
it unleashes a tornado in my throat, threatening touch down or screams
that we are not allowed to be the way we were built to be:
bound by hands and heart and shards of glass under your foot
the OneThing again and forever
two pieces united into something new
scraping lightly with archaelogist’s tools
burning with delight at every discovery
we: long lost twins and true
my hands hold up a cut anchor
as i drift through this blackening ocean
that you are not part of
and shrivel upon myself to still wake widowed; Alone
my love for you pours forth in crimson flood
the way it used to summon you to my side
without a word by messenger bird or butterfly
i think now as i run a dulled lady’s shaver up my legs
that if i let a straight cousin tap my wrists again
there would be no taint of my illnesses in the coiling cerise wet
i would have put the key at my throat in your half-seen keyhole
and shut the door, safely home
too much weight on my shoulders besides my conscience
to peel free from the heaviness
but sometimes i seethe, unable to rest my head where yours is
sometimes i cannot conceive this mist that parts
how dare those gods or nature prove my strength lesser
and make off with the whole of you
leaving me with nothing and less
just the physical reminders of a heart bruised
and eyes too overwhelmed for weeping
i no longer crave the cigarettes
so maybe this emptiness surges up for liquor i rarely lech
i’ll pin it against the blasphemies of my illnesses
and hope i find a way through it
other than freezing over in empty rooms or bathtubs
waiting for sleep
as if i’ll find my answers there
i still cannot help
a decade later
not to love you best
©️ 2011
DailyLitDeviations feature on DeviantArt
Originally posted on my DeviantArt
Mischa Fox 