my own hells

I keep thinking thoughts I know aren’t true –

I just want to rest in you

you’re not waiting to hurt me to make me stronger. I am not your enemy, I am your daughter.

you’re not holding grudges and making me suffer

you’re not small or petty, but my thoughts aren’t well

I’ve wasted so much time striving and stressing when you were right there –

offering rays of heaven while I made my own hells

everything looks different (the music is a loop)

sometimes I wish I hadn’t

shattered the ladder

down the rabbit hole

//

it’s so far down

and now

I don’t think I’d get back in time

and it’s still too soon to leave

//

up here there’s no you and me

//

I thought this was best

put those daydreams to rest

let time take the memories

from that distance they can’t torture me

but I keep looking down to see

if you might be trying to find me

//

up here

no smoke or mirrors

so it’s clear

//

and I don’t believe

anything

//

I thought it’d set me free

but I still want you and me

flammable

sometimes honest words slip and burn the veil between this life and the other(s)

and I am singed for days

dazed

in the quiet

the truth smokes us out of that in-between and leaves us hesitant

hazy

most days we don’t realize how close the flame is

so when we get warm

it’s always a surprise

that this could have been

that there is no way of knowing

how much smolders

how much exists between the between

gasoline soaked with wanting

ready to catch fire

with truth we barely whisper

we wash the walls of our homes

of our hearts

dampen them

to save them

forgetting the soot on our feet

smudging

I could use a smudging

smoke for smoke

belief clinging

relentless and flammable

Pyre

I’m not sure how to explain

losing religion but it never losing me

I know in the Bible Belt

there’s a lot that could mean

—

Let me clarify:

I have practiced unbelief

it never did any good to me

—

and I have practiced like they said

sinking with weights tied to my hands

—

and I heard the weapons of their words

trained to double back just to hurt

—

So I sought the Spirit

and it lit a fire

burned my old heart down

on the Spirit’s pyre

—

I picked up whatever was still around

And found revival from the ground

—

so I’m a believer

but not like that

and I’m a doubter

but I don’t live well without it

—

I’m setting tables

for the people they dishonor

and I think God

is more than just a father

—

and I’ve got Holy

coursing through my veins

and so do you

because that’s how we’re made

seventeen

I’ve made as much peace as I can with things I can’t control:

privileges and hurts I didn’t ask for

but still hold

—

I’m in quicksand thinking of

the person I can’t go back and be

and those choices are

grains of sand getting in through my wounds and filling me

until I can’t breathe

—

the things I could have known

steal my sleep;

everyone’s reckless

at seventeen

(even me)

—

and I’ve been angry

that no one saved me

from myself

but god knows I’d never have taken the help

—

forgiving that girl

feels beyond my grasp

because I’m the one

paying for her past

—

and I’m the one

laying in the bed she made

—

she and I,

we’re not okay

—

and the only thing

I know to say

is I don’t want

two decades more to pass this way

—

and I don’t want to let them down:

the woman ahead, waiting on me

and the girl I used to be –

both still holding on in belief

—

that I can go get seventeen

and bring her

and make my peace

with the things that couldn’t be

because of her, because of me

—

I want to cut the wound open,

let the sand release

but the only way out of quicksand

is slowly

Liars

sounds like a lie

but it’s a lie I love

so I’ll lick the words

right off your tongue

—

I want to be honest

but I know that I can’t

I outgrew the persona

you’re fascinated with

—

actually I never was

most of what I pretend to be

it gets me by

but it never gets me free

—

and I still want

a mouth full of your lies

so I

don’t tell you

more than I do

—

and you don’t know me

and I still want you

Grief

I realize suddenly

that I am arguing with Grief.

There is a person across from me – full of forceful words and seething behind their chest

But they are currently inhabited by Grief who is taking a good run at me with words that trigger my fight responses

I have seen Grief unravel so many things: families, fortunes, faiths – without discrimination and with no end date

Marking children

and grandchildren

generations…

How far do you have to trace along your family line to find it?

Not far.

It’s a quiet ache on the good days

and a wolf snarling at the door on the worst

I try to breathe and see the person underneath this time,

before I hurl the weapons waiting in my mouth intent to injure

This is how some wars are lost,

distracted by a false enemy,

using up your resources in the wrong places

I’ve watched Grief burn everything to the ground before

So I am careful to keep the spark out of my eyes. No fuel tonight.

But Grief is insistent. It keeps coming for me – demanding I give it something

I didn’t want this work tonight

I hate the way Grief crashes in

demanding so much attention.

This one is in it’s toddler phase

and everyone knows how needy toddlers are,

how destructive they can be if left to their own devices

and so I curl myself around it, this is something I can do well

twisting, twirling

rabbit holes and side roads

until Grief is tired of me –

of trying to make fires in the wind of my movement

I watch it puddle on the ground and know it is just laying dormant for a while

there’s no defeating Grief.

You can teach it though

the rules of your home,

what you will allow,

the way you will let it live with you.

Offerings

The sun simply offers us it’s presence and we bask in it

We crave it

We let it warm our skin

And grow our crops

And power parts of our world

And we count on it’s reflection

As we watch the phases of the moon

And we like the way it looks as it comes to us and as it leaves

We like the way it looks sparkling against the water, dappling in the leafy trees

I’m going to stop wondering if my offerings are too small

And just start offering them

Anyways

are you breathing?

i’m trying to decide –

silence

can be a boundary

or

an invitation

how do you know?

and sometimes

it is the answer-

the cessation

speaks for itself

except when it doesn’t

except when it is

simply

a breath…

are you breathing?

do you mean the things you’ve never said?

the things i’ve never heard you say?

what about the things you did?

did you draw a line i’m not invited to cross?

or are you wondering what is taking me so long?