I heave my body
still buried beneath you and
do the damn dishes.
What I imagine small discarded broken bits strewn on sidewalks sound like
I’m screaming!
I’m here!
I’m screaming!
But you don’t hear me.
And you don’t care.
confession
I plucked the last bits of my heart out today. Those slivers were stuck hard. I think I snipped extra flesh trying to dig everything out.
The last few pulls were so satisfying. I couldn’t help but look at the strands up close, admiring the thin lines amidst shiny globs.
falling stream
no thunderous roar
of surging water
but shards
of b u zz ing
pix els
flick foam
fall
ing
.
with
your
gaze
.
cas c a d i ng
through your
f e e d
b i t s
b i t s
b i t s
b i t s
.
c
a
.
tc
.
.
ch
.
y
.
.
o
u
r
.
.
.
eye
.
as
.
.
.
it
.
.
.
.
g rips
.
what
you
last saw into
.
.
.
meaning
.
on a
g l o w i n g s c r e e n
burn mark pavement
pluming rose riot
f u l l
blunders sk i t t e r
.
.
.
.
into
a
.
pin
ched
silk
pool
q.d.
5 + 200
for remembering that I care
(5 less than last year) for clarity
+ 100 or
+ 80
to relieve pressure
+ 200
p.r.n.
for reassurance
X x
(whenever I feel
off)
+ 400
if I still don’t feel better
+ 600
– X
(if I think I already have)
with hope I won’t need more
+ 800
because I lost count
+ 10
h.s.
to clear my head
+ 10
to hold me over
Patch
I found the hole
where you slipped
out from under
my hands.
If I squeeze my eyes
closed enough
I think I can see the outline
of where you were curled up.
I’m sure it’s your warmth
that is stuck to my palms.
I would patch this hole but
I know you will come back
because you left everything here.
And because I remember you get
cold so easily, I’ll keep my hands
just like this.
Nima Xan 