Electric chords hum lullabies to me in my sleep
I deprive myself of rest it seems
I hardly speak about the demons that visit me
They’ve called it ‘sleep paralysis’
An oddly neutral name for a wildly terrifying experience
When you’re 7 years old, and frozen with
Demons parading your sheets
It’s no wonder, the darkness called to me.
D2 gene. It’s the one that makes addicts become
And families become…not families,
Nuclear, another name for clean power
I wonder if I can make you
The nuclear power to my urban jungle of a body
If you won’t ever release me
Can I live this life and feel you tearing at me
When the hunger could rip me open
At night, in the morning –
Maybe being ripped open is what we need.
The nuclear ones.
What if I frack my emotions, if I run too deep,
Will my body begin to seep,
With toxins that deprive it of it’s own freedom?
It’s expression, not determination.
So my mind is stronger than my body.
So my mind is weaker than my soul.
So my spirit carries me through.
They told me it was a sign of intelligence
To feel things so deeply in my dreams
Is it intelligent to feel the freezing of a scream
As it settles in your oesphagus and doesn’t
It’s overstaying its welcome when you bring it with you
To school, home, work
So you shove it down because it’s inappropriate
This rounded, raw, sharp edged thing as it moves
Up and down like a pinball,
In a pinball machine
And it’s evolutionary stage
Is to stay, stuck in your chest
It feels safe there
Next to your heart. They wage their own war
That you keep in the dark
Just above your ribs that seem to tighten
Every time they could lighten.
Lungs hello, it’s been a while.
Normally you and I don’t talk much.
My diaphragm, is a telegram for my voice
To suddenly pick up,
And dust off, all those unspoken things
Like I’m angry that I can’t depend on
Someone, without the expectation back
That there is no space to breathe
When I open up, to take time for the peace
Before you gift me your war
To take in and relocate, somewhere in my skin
Or muscle, or bone. Maybe a tendon or two,
Tendons were the original few.
Look, I want to talk and get it out
But not if you think it’s a free pass to have your turn to shout
I’m holding all this in one body
Without space, I become nobody
Out of body
Drifting, disconnected, discombodied, from this strange
Where I should be able to speak, and have a voice and be human
But I spend so much time justifying my humanness
That I can’t be in it.
And I spend so much time looking for his attention
In every attention I cannot grasp
Because every inattention becomes his attention
And is it any wonder I gasp
Trying to get the words out fast enough
Before you move on and away
And I’ll never see you again.
I’ll never see you again.
Nightmares, and addicts, and families that were never families to begin with
Broken, seems a rather high term for
Children born to parents
Who really should have broken up
Before the condom split
You can spit out your drink at that one
I’ve had time to think on that one
And I think it’s rather clever
Lets go one better
Love is real, in the aftermath of the destruction
And the anxiety, and the pain, and the never-ending hunger
That will never gain supplication
From me again
I will not worship at an alter
That takes from me
The swinging of hips, or smiles or even steps that falter
When I want to do something new
Or someone 😉