Pulled again, slowly, into the stillness of the night.
Left to consider the implications of starlight.
Looking up. Up, as far as my vertebrae will go.
Getting confused whether I am above or below.
Waves hitting my retina – they’re aimless, relentless.
They are a burning reminder that past is endless.
As I strain my eyes to gaze at a wandering star,
I ask it “When did you die and did you leave a scar?”
There is no reply. I doubt there has ever been one.
Or ever will be. Darkness is where silence has won.
You surrender to chaos. Scar. Decay. And repair.
You die. You destruct. What I see is no longer there.
Consider many, many worlds.
Consider the space that they occupy.
Consider another you asking “why”
With every stone you’ve ever hurled.
Perhaps in another timeline,
Perhaps in one where you had the same choice,
Perhaps there you were… Brave to clear your voice,
And it echoed all through your spine.
Discard the worlds that will collapse.
Discard the useless notches in your chest.
Discard your self that craves your mother’s breast,
And let the water fill the gaps.
Please take what flutters in your spine.
Please take that version and please let it grow.
Please save it from the coldness of the snow.
Then whisper “This version is mine”.
Knees meeting pavement –
It’s not as much of a misfortune
As it is a way of life.
When the fear of heights,
As low as six feet, is competing
With what some call bravery.
Knees kissing pavement –
Kind of makes you slow down and marvel
Just how hard things could get.
How thin a fabric
Can one get away with
Attempting to hide
Snaky tail and feral eyes?
How thin can the walls be
So that they won’t fail to
Arrest the chaotic
Determined need to feed?
It’s a matter of time.
It’s a matter of pride.
Yet it’s always a crime
When the wildlife won’t hide.
I asked the vulture:
“What is your take on
What I heard back was
My own opinion
But in a deep voice.
Flexed like a sculpture,
He’s nobody’s pawn.
Mine. Must be the claws.
The sounds ebbed. And in this wavelessness
You can’t help but question whether the noises
Have ever existed at all.
Have ever existed. At all.
Like saying a word over and over
Until you get to the point when you begin
To wonder whether it is real.
For instance: Crow. Crow. Crow. Crow. Crow.
The sounds ebbed. And you could not recall
Why this frozen crow’s beak was gaping tensely,
Or where this goddamn crow came from.
Where the hell did this crow come from???