i'm trying to move from this
i'm trying to take a step ahead
but my mind reverts back to it again and again-
i breathe deep and exhale
the sound of a million cigarettes rattling in my chest-
finding that the heat has left my cunt and moved into my face
i'm telling myself it's good to purge
empty out the vats that are full of her-
one by one
i empty the memory that is stored so carefully
placed so delicately
yet severed so abruptly-
i ought to have practice at this
as women have been leaving me since the day i was born
or is it that i have left them?
one way or another i ought to be more practiced at this
at first it was fear-
then it moved to sadness
then to pity-
and i don't say the later lightly-
no one wants to be pitied
no matter how lost or sad they are-
so there's me with all of this
for her
and all the hers before her-
i wake each day wondering if this will be the end of these emotions
i still circulate for her-
herstory tells me that i'm over it with little fixation
but i'd rather reason with these emotions than have them haunt me into the next one
i"ve forgotten what my direction was in my purging
is it coming up or going deeper inside?
some say healing is a process
or a destination
i'd say it's a little of both depending on which way you look for out
my out comes with words
hers and hers before was with absence-
i wonder when i'll succumb to the repetition i've witnessed again and again
isn't that what repetition is?
either learning a lesson really well so that you do it
or so that you don't?
I can't guage where i am in the process of letting go-
So tell me how you are
Standing there
beside me
above me
beneath me
i tell you that is my favorite position-
all of the above
i tell you more about me than you tell me about you
besides the pharmaceutical diagnosis-
who do you sleep with?
What does she want?
what does she dream about when she dares to close her eyes;
the ones that create the monsters
outside the mind that conjures up worse enemies-
sooner than i rise
you tell me you must go
you felt the urge to go somewhere deeper to dream about the wrongs
that your mother has done-
it's a slow day when the woman stays
she's more confused about herself than when she's off in deep thought-
i couldn't tell you what i've done
for there is no response to the needs that drive her-
I lay there wondering if leaving this space is the right thing to do at this moment-
the cigarette smoke is a reminder that the clouds about her head are here to stay-
the sooner i leave the sooner she goes back to her hands
looking for the stars that remind her
that she is part of something bigger
something beautiful
somewhere that she started from long ago-
trying to escape the memory that her star wasn't as bright as the others
she holds that fault in her heart
blaming no one else but the seed that she derives from
that she should have been born a brighter star
without the shadow of the constellations that surround her-
she takes my hand in hers
that are full of me
and my place
and she tells me
it's not going to work
this..
her..
and me..
she steadies her other hand around the small circle that will one day claim her again
to be damned by the dis-ease
again and again...
