The beginning was not perfect, just the opening. Just for you.
Let me remind you that I was in a million pieces when we met.
I had no blank slate. My heart was tattooed, raw, and bloody,
Crying softly nothing but, “Math-You…Math-You…Math-You…”
Oozing that tantamount, feverish name with every nauseous beat.
My heart was a vacuum, a tickless clock. What had I to give you?
Nothing but emptiness that I filled with the things I could still reach.
They were things that mattered, the pieces that survived the holocaust,
But understand that nobody built palaces in Hiroshima after the bomb.
We became two quadriplegics trying to carry each other from a burning building.
You ripped the feathers from my back with bare hands and sewed them into your skin.
I kept going because I am human. Dead-eyed and thirsty, my spirit endures
And step by shaking step I trailed zombiesque, devouring halogen bulbs,
In search of the sun I thought I would never see again. My horizon was black.
I kept myself freezing because it slowed my heartbeat, a veil over a gaping wound,
The mockery my life had become. Misery loves company and mine called you over.
For you to pick up the pieces, there had to be pieces to pick up.
So whenever I healed, you re-broke my heart and splinted it.
You made me believe I was nothing but a void only you could fill.
I was never your rose, only flotsam under a dome, kept from the butterflies.
I told you why. I told you when I tried to rip out your tongue with my teeth.
I told you when I looked at you with sleep-dazed eyes flooded with disbelief.
I told you when I missed The Date, a paper doll crumpled, crying ink black tears.
I told you in poetry and in anger. I told you in winter nights and autumn days.
I told you in a shower of spitting sparks, burning cold, branding words.
We stalk this stage, painting over one another’s sets.
You think you can improvise your lines to produce applause.
The Sound Head is my lover. My voice will always be louder than yours.
Author notes
Read it and Weep.
November 3, 2009.
11:56 AM.
Refined at 1:07 PM.
Do you still think it was beautiful?
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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I'm laughing so hard that I am getting weird looks...
lmao "The Sound Head is my lover. My voice will always be louder than yours."
Epic just epic... I love you
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lol. i'm glad it amused you! gah, i was just...so intensely fed up with him...more on that later, i should write you a letter about it...maybe i'll do that today...any ways. poetry is a wonderful outlet! and true story about the Sound Head and the volume of my voice...
i love you too.
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Yeah,
I did notice the John Riker inspiration, that's why I liked it, I think. It stuck out as a bit too familiar to be coincidence. It's wonderful that you have a john-riker-level aspiring relationship; it sounds beautiful indeed.
I look forward to salsaing with you <3 -
"Nothing but emptiness that I filled with the things I could still reach.
They were things that mattered, the pieces that survived the holocaust,
But understand that nobody built palaces in Hiroshima after the bomb."
i think you're brutally honest yet eloquent in perfect balance. i love your words, the cold pricklies (as opposed to warm fuzzies) are heart wrenching.
i love your ability to reflect with coherency. you're amazing
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"I told you in poetry and in anger. I told you in winter nights and autumn days."
"You ripped the feathers from my back with bare hands and sewed them into your skin."
This is fantastic. Intense, not too little, not too much. Gorgeous words telling your story honestly.
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Lovely,
your writing is so full of intensity. It is mesmerizing all the way through, like all four of your most recent poems. Your anger and grief and the way you look back are so sharp in your imagery. It is lovely to read, and wonderfully surprising, because you are such a sweet and sure person now. You must have grown a lot since then.
I love you.
Oh, I really like "I am living my life alive."
And I especially like the repetition of "I told you..." followed by "my voice will always be louder than yours" at the end. Your voice in the poem is clear and skillful, indeed. -
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thank you, my darling. i think that it is true, i have changed quite a bit over the past two years or so. the "i am living my life alive" bit was inspired by john riker, actually, because that is what he is always saying he wants for us and i find it inspirational and beautiful. it's also something i feel like i am doing when i am with dear boyfriend.
i love you too.
i got slammed with reading so i missed ballroom today, but plan on salsa-ing your heart out with me tomorrow!
xoxo.
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