I sat, still. gut wrenched, holding.
Nib to parchment scraping. cutting.
tracing veins that would no longer quicken.
until I vomited you. out. bleeding the past. the way out through the buried box.
contaminating the air. singing
as a newborn.echoing through the darkness.
afterwards. raw. eyes wide. finally awake.
flooding, senses heightened.
I knew. I was alive.
my mother is gone. no longer
can i call her on the phone, hear the smile
in her voice. i sit in the dark
thousands of years away from that moment
and picture home. watching the waves & the
wild of the sea quietens me, in my mind
something stills, just for a moment
the anxiety stops. the thoughts never stop.
my mind is never silent, turning over the strangest things, thoughts flip.
glass is really a liquid. i used to stare at
windows in between sentence & fixate, on this.
glass is molecules. it exists in the space between water, and structured reality. it is amorphous, like our bodies. it will warp, but can bend more than us
before it breaks. eventually everything shatters.
once i broke down. i was absent, missing
vocal sound. i have thought & thought
about where i went that year. i have no answer.
walls are still, but they hear & see
everything we do. i drop food on the floor,
see particles in my mind decomposing. breaking down, pulling away, radiating outwards towards the point of absorption. rotting skin, ants, worms, writhing maggots move all around. i feel them crawl
spreading over me.
i can’t stand to be. here, anymore.
my brain is malfunctioning. decomposing
from the second we are born, we are withering. dying from the inside
rotting out, like my mother.
i close my eyes. she speaks to me. she is gone. she is gone. she is gone. the reality of her absent form repeats,
she sits beside me.
love has been an unexpected found, lost for me before i dared to open the hands that clenched, trying to contain. bloomed confusion obscured inside the shadowed hurt of childhood. before i unlocked the door to inner self, found you outwith.
love has been the cold reflective, steel blade. understanding, giving. unforgiving. the release of who i am, my path back to you.
the path to emotions shuttered room, where i pray on tired knee. beg to die, beg to live, to come alive. to feel renewal inside, energies light, birthing the summer sun.
the fight, to barter with emotion. life’s metronome unbalanced. the constant flux. the unexpected found, the unsound. the fight within, to understand the eternal source, that drags me down to the drowning pool.
E s c a p e [myself ]
o u t r u n myself
get o u t of myself
in and out of myself
r u n n i n g through
away and from this[self ]
out fly myself
out-time and space
pain filled space
within [myself ]
the cluttered messy
mistake[s] of myself
the mess within
the core of myself
the madness within
that creates this[self ]
the s o u n d that R o a r s
the volume within
the voices telling
i need to
to [myself ]
the slices of life
I’ve taken in
H a t r e d of [myself ]
all the time
e v e r
I want [so ] much
to l e a v e
there is s t i l l
some [self ]
and — f l y — to You.
my father reached out
spoke to me in the instant
lost inside the earth cores deepest
sleep, held inside the silent
mountain, i held his
hand. sing out. life is all
reaching, if you’re doing,
getting up. living in the
joy & inside the saddest river.
life is present, being.
inside life’s pain
we stretch to live, all trying,
lost within the dying & the ends.
mute swans sing out
in their dying moments.
a story told in days, reaching
into tomorrow, carried on
upon the backs of birds who travel
in between the song of sound. the song the
living cannot hear unless we dream.
birds speak & understand the minds of man.
we have travelled together,
watching inside darkened
centuries of history in
muted communication,shaping time,as
shifting sound. listen. the dreaming
understand the song of death,
the journey into the screaming universe.
the shifting shore where our first words
held within the blink of
night hawk eye. swans sing inside
their joy to die, they
call out to the darkness that sings to
them. i heard my father
in his dying breath. his song of loss, speaking forgiveness, a song
of pain. the messenger walks
between the sound of worlds, he
whispers, listen. know in recognition,
the going home, the roaring dawn ahead. the end is the voice of understanding.
©kbain2018.All Rights Reserved.
my love is a broken door, breaking
you, over & over. until it’s over, and
i don’t want you to go, but i am
glad for you. i push away. there
is ice water filling up the scars holding
me together. submerging emotion.
blunted, pain cuts through obscure ice.
the submerged room i am trapped in,
i can no longer stand, i sink to give.
the pain is endless.
i open the dark box of nothing.
inside thoughts repeat
the voice of self annihilation,
as written on the walls, in the blood
of yesterday & the day after. emptied i sit.
knowing i get back to this, guts me.
i stare at the black void pool. reflection
of all my living fear.
there is no door out of this room. i am
sealed inside my mind. memory ruptures
through sinew. i leak. blooming on,
aching through night born, seeping into
the ice floor shelf, it adds
to the blackness, it will swallow me up.
i am the death mattress whore.
i plunge, submerge.
empty of me, wanting more. your face the last
i see. always, i see you, staring back at me.
mouth open. eyes gaze into
the face of all that is unknown.
you are dead. i am always dying.
our love is decomposing.
©Karen Bain 2017.All Rights Reserved.