16 Schism
I wanted to let him have
it (Oh, Lover) but instead, I clammed up
you know, when plans
give way to vicissitudes of real life you’re left wanting
and wondering what you’re
willing to compromise…
you may abandon
what you thought you knew
and loved – for all time, ending in a disaster or a perfect
storm of indifference
I was never guaranteed any success
though I refuse
to sink into the background when I can just see light around the edges,
offerings of a
brighter world…
bitterness runs deep
until you run into someone
you know at Caribou (not me, I’m alone, but someone else, just witnessed)
or you make time to meet
someone for lunch (but not me, I’m alone)…
I can taste the sugar in my bun sweet and eggy
writing, writing and
writing without pursuit I am
bound to you but still
I was willing
to watch you walk out the
door as I sank deeper.
The inevitable became fairy tale
and I rose into the
trauma brain, that saccharine lofty one that
disconnects from the
“generally accepted definition of Reality” and
I tasted freedom, but again, Alone….
I can live outside and above for years if I have to
everyone should have such an escape
I am not unique
and I maybe don’t matter…
how many stories surround that escape from ego
when you’re feeling 19, and you forget in a dream that
everything’s breaking apart but
the snow is falling steady nonetheless
tonight, a family dinner invitation will surely be thwarted
by ice on unforgiving hills.
When my brain feels free [yes – tell me what that
feels like] then…
I avoid the mirror
at all costs
usually
but an accidental glance at Sunday yoga showed me
my hips are the size of
a beach ball
no wonder I can’t
stand up straight
I hurt
because I never wanted to be a
CPA. My round hips won’t fit inside the acronym
I’m drinking decaf because Caffeine comes with
unfortunate feelings of grandeur
beyond wildest imaginings
until I curl up into a ball
behind the stairs, knowing the lie
that awaits us
I called your
faith bullshit and made your
frustration my own
because I know
the strength of your fears
and where the soft spots are, the
weight of my own disbelief…
Because you own the boon of fortunate brain chemistry, or so I railed.
I’ve tried to drug my way
out of my birthright. They
scratch their heads. This
usually works. What’s the newest…
and I cry out again and again, dismayed
You can’t drug me into the shape of convention
not with the best Prozac variants in the world
That’s where you went wrong – when
you failed to see me.
My hips grow rounder
and rounder…
I am certain I may
give birth to the world
if I don’t destroy myself
first.