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.
when you speak to me of love
your voice is all constricted,
your gaze is down,
watching restless movements,
birds circling your feet — today’s incompletes
drowning in substantive
thought — i can feel it — the reverberated
shuffling, night’s ripple of uncomfortable,
the awkward in-betweens of our life.
full of care,
care sits right over there,
with you. sits where you sit, somehow
it fits, & i am — comfortable
for the first time — in a long time. yet
my heart is pounding, rushing, flowing,
pulsing, growing into you, pulling away.
blooming — booming — my voice
is all avoidance, avoiding me, the day,
my feelings as all the words flow on repeat
and rush away — flowing forwards,
standing -— still.
and all contained — will never find the still,
the air around, the room in which we sit
or stand, to fall.
i fall, i fail.
the continual fall to fail,
below your feet.
and who am i.
a passing torment.
a passing — wasted
inside the blink —
of your eye.
In another time & place
when i was someone else — i
held you. saw you for the
last time. final journey.
gazing out towards
home, i watched you
fly — across the tidal ice.
high. sky slate
grey, as the ice packed
pain echoing thunder.
crack. the tearing
of my soul & all the half stitched
seams holding us together.
i stood inside days. waiting. lost
inside the storm.
staring out. standing tied.
at the raw edged wound of nature.
hoping to be swallowed up,
as hearts opened & merged
with the fossils of stones.
one moment out of time & step,
the glance away — the cruelest blow.
my hell brain mind replaying
last words back
to me. unsettled, mingling with the
Sea. as day rolled in & out. pain
washing over. tears flooding,
drowning me,mixing with the salt. eroding
my reflection. the me i had become,
your eyes, staring back
from the deep, in
©Copyright Karen Bain 2017.All Rights Reserved.
W h e r e has our love gone
have time and p a i n washed
love a w a y
has our f o c u s
s h i f t e d feelings
left behind along the way..
Has p a i n blocked
out the sunlight
the path that leads to
and from m y door
has warmth left y o u r chambered heart forever
Is love l y i n g dying
b a t t e r e d on a b l e e d i n g floor..
Is it h i d i n g from
what l i e s waiting
all that causes it f e a r
and p a i n..
Is it hanging on to something
d e a d n o w..
something r e m e m b e r e d
Have f i s t s and a n g e r distorted my vision
of who i a m and how i f e e l
has the sunlight turned
to D a r k n e s s
my e c h o of p a i n all
that is R e a l …
tha mi airson faighinn a-mach
©Copyright Karen Bain 2017.All Rights Reserved.
I am mystery
I am darkness
I am calling you..
I am echoing
I am silence
I am the lost inside of you..
I am memory
I am doubt
I am fear
And all your loss..
I am winning
I am calling
I am peace
I am the voice…
©Copyright Karen Bain 2016. All Rights Reserved.
Between darkness and light
what hides in the shadows of
the tear in the membrane
of our soul..
Does our consciousness
Create what hides within
the fear that erodes from
the break in reality..
housing the voice only we can hear
pecking at our minds in hope
that we give in..
We all live between the darkness and the light
In the cold blue black of night..
Which thread of reality should we hold onto
as we slip inside the out
when demons surrounding are too loud..
Perhaps the hush is within
the tears that flow
the glass shards imploding around..
the blood that pumps underground..
inside the shadows of our portable shell
the form in which we hide
from the hands that grasp..
Inside the house behind the door
that we bolt Shut..
to keep the monsters out..
In the pitch black of night
I hold myself on the cold floorboards
and pray to the darkness
in my soul
he’s the only one who will ever know…
©Karen Bain 2016.All Rights Reserved.