If I Ever Find Love Again

If I ever find love again,

I will be chosen.

I will not chase them down,

Determined,

Strong,

Loving.

I will wait,

Hold myself in ways that are unnatural,

Force myself to be quiet.

Would you rather be with someone,

Even if it's wrong,

Or be alone?

They say over 80% of women stay.

The devil you know,

Over the potential you don't.

Maybe I'll follow myself,

Move to an island.

Find sun-filled shores.

But children,

Oh, my children,

The impossibility of a life divided for them.

So maybe I will stay,

And never find love again.

When Insanity Shouts: Listen

There is something particularly cruel about this one.

A brother detoxing, some days barely alive 
In my guest room.

A little girl, two and a half,
By my side day in and out.

Pregnant, anxious with worry,
After the miscarriage.

 
Caring for all of you,
In my home,
In my womb.

I remember weeping,
Begging him,
Because I felt so alone. 

And him,
Claiming he was trying,

He didn't know what to do.

A hotel room in Cincinnati.
Did it feel like home wasn't real?
Like he could be a man free
Of problems
Of responsibilities
Of family?

The problems he was ignoring
Even when he was home.
I married a Lost Boy,
And Wendy-bird, she can solve anything.

And she did.
Over and over again.

Feed the brother.
Read to the daughter.
Sing to the unborn baby.
Clean the house.
Make dinner for your overworked husband.
Ignore the insanity in your head.

Even though the insanity knew,
Somehow, the whole time.

Keep trying,
Don't break.
Take care of them,

No one else will.

Don't look around to see,
There is no one to take care of you.

Broken Hand

The week I broke my hand
My neighbor told me to take care of it well,
"Or you'll regret it when you're 50!"

It was the same week my heart broke,
A thousand shards glittering.

We taped it with popsicle sticks
To thwart a cast ruining summer
Avoiding the water an impossibility.

The glass of my heart is sharper,
No amount of tape will suffice.

He saw me a few days later,
Hand out toward the sun,
"What are you doing? You have to let it heal!"

Healing seems like a distant dream,
I'd rather sweep it all away.

These broken things,
Attempting to mend correctly.
But without a cast, there will always be a bend in my hand.

Platonic

We can be this way,

Easy,

Untangled,

Next to each other but not within.

Life is better beside,

UFC and poetry and a long list of movies.

I'll grow old if you want,

We'll never touch again.

I used to think the other way,

Burn it bright and fast.

Aching to be in your skin,

Caught and tangled in your mind.

But you were right the whole time.

Steady and sustainable,

Things that make me feel dull,

Are better than life without you.

I'll take a duller version of us,

If it means there still is any hope

Of us. 

Wishbone

In one fell swoop I lost the two people I would break for,

And break I did.

I felt the snap.

I've said before that I am unbreakable, but I can be bent.

I was wrong.

Violence and hate can't break me,

Death, hovering above my bed cannot make me snap.

It turns out it's love.

A wishbone held by two hands at either side of a table,

They pulled.

And I snapped cleanly.

Lucky in someone else's eyes. That I would snap in such a way for them.

Which one of you got your wish?

Do you know who holds the bigger piece?

All I feel is broken from the bone of my neck,

Where I used to sing.

Now unable to even whisper.

I actually see it clearer than this. Don't worry.

I know when it broke he gave a grin,

While you...

You did not even know what was being broken.

Don't throw the piece away?

Keep me safe?

Hold it tight,

Maybe we can piece it back together.

But you may be too shocked,

And sickened,

At the sight of me broken in your hand.

You might throw me and run.

I wouldn't blame you,

You never belonged in this mess.

I promise you I didn't know it was one.

Then it was too late,

To shout a warning out

From my broken neck.

Belief

I didn't believe him at first.

Not him,
Not us,
Never us.

But he had names
And places
And it was true.

Piece by piece.
It broke apart in my mind
And came back together.

I deserve better.

The Warmest Way

"Sometimes, love is almost protection enough."

Most days I think this is love
And it's keeping me alive.
Protecting me from the harm
That is in myself.

I thought it would be harder,
To pull back from you.

But I have tread this path before.
I know how to break parts of myself off.
Hold them in my hands
And save them for later. 

Here are some from 15 years ago,
See?
They still glisten in the light,
Beating.
Not dead after all these years.

I thought they might shrivel,
Or become smaller.
But they feel just the same.

I'll put your pieces with them.
And maybe someday,
I'll be able to tell,
The moment I knew
The you I loved was gone.

Or maybe I'll grow old,
Knowing the you I loved never changed.
That might be the warmest way,
To lose someone. 

The Death

The Death normally sits in the space between 

my clavicle and neck. 
A small hollow where it fits.
And I carry it there as if it is light. 

Sometimes it escapes and seeps down through my body.
Heavy
Heavy 
Heavy.
Smoke from the island,
Fog as in a dream.
Weighing me from head to toe.

"Why do you keep me so small?"
It whispers,
Reverberating under my skin. 
"Why don't you let me out?"
Teeth flashing, 
A bite within the smoke. 

I can hold it here,
Filled,
Cold,
Sharp,
For a while.
Until it is tired of living inside me. 
Constantly trying to seep out.

Then,
Oh so dark.
Do I fight it again?
I am so tired.
It has worn me down,
All these years.

Maybe, this time,
I will let the darkness spill out
Until I am nothing.
I am nothing.
Nothing
but cold.

Rare

How rare it is

For someone to not drown in our darkness,

To not pull us darker still,

Or only see our light.

How rare it is

For someone to see it all

Intertwined

And say,

"Here I am,

I see you,

I won't look away."

And instead

To stay.