Last Winter
ice webbing
a glass floor fallen
through thudding ear drums
driving choking breaths
borrow seconds
weigh options
hold for saving graces
the cold weighing
down
down
down
give organs pause
slow the trickle of blood gone bad
vicious is the water
speaking silent thoughts
goodbyes to those
not drowning
With 1 Being the Worst, on a Scale of
1-100,
I feel like I’m a solid 45.
1-10,
I think I’m about uh 3(?) or maybe 4? Nah, 3.
1-5,
I’d say 2, only because I don’t want to say 1.
0-1,
I’m not a fraction’s worth.
- Sappy
Crack the knuckles
at the knot
Tug the jaw
leave it slack for consumption
Gulp eggs whole
Thread chicken between teeth
Strands of sticky sauce
in the corners
and globs of rice on spoons
Molars press on bones and bread
Drink the wine and wince
at the bitter in cavities
and bleeding gums
Taste saccharine
songs of ice cream melting in
momentary pleasure
Plead with paprika
stinging of soup
and hunks of potato
in the battered pheasant
On the table
slice with knives and devious eyes
pork rinds and punishment
A bulk in the chest
begging for
one more bite.
Meander, twist
Dancing around
No lines, no limits, all angle
Twisting, turning
Like the branches of a tree
Like an ancient river
And yet somehow this is wrong
Every day
Stretching away pain
Exploding power into muscles
Insisting.
And trying to remember that the enemy isn’t my body
It’s the expectation that if you can’t do things one way
You shouldn’t do them at all
Insisting
On movement
Because it heals
And I don’t have to do it standing “straight”
Breath expanding
Crushed against ribs
Heart pounding more than it should
Feeling deeply into each muscle
Because crooked things can be beautiful
But take a bit of searching
Breathe
Sharp exhale
Dizzy
Lightheaded
Still moving
Insisting
For me
Dance
In a spiral
In a twist
Roll
Leap
You’re not made of glass
Don’t let them tell you so
This dance is resistance
Against the idea that only certain kinds of bodies can do it “right”
That some bodies should only exist in breakable inaction
Noiselessness
Cooperation
Convenience
Move
Dance
Spine
Breath
Because you were not meant to be shackled into stillness
I die a little each day
I breathe in and out even when I cannot
bear
the silence
I think of you often
I think of us sometimes
mostly in the dark
The day feels too delicate
to suffocate beneath the weight
of your going
You’ve gone
I sometimes think
you’ll come back to me
flowers in hand
a smile on your face
and everything will be okay
Until then, I’ll die a little each day
sometimes i wonder & leave the pickle jar unscrewed like the time i stole a hamster from my neighbor & still have but not want & the time i showed my bloody wound knowing that mother would scream i still am wandering to know why i did that & endlessly i still am wondering - sappy
