The Bearly Literate Poet

He/they|22|Writer I scream beauty into the void.

[bearlyliterate]

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Walmart bloodstained gravel

Tearstained Starbucks bag

Swerved around to find you

warm and arms outstretched

Eye raised to the blue sky

Other to the ground

My friend there shoulders heaving

I can’t shake that sound

And my eyes start burning

As we picked you up

Not a name or mother

And you’re so damn small

Covered your broken face up

With flowers from the verge

In the bag on my lap

We mournfully drove home

Buried you near our dog

Bestowed on you a name

[bearlyliterate]

I wonder when their eyes spark and they know—

As breath becomes laborious and short

Fingers dig into the ground, breaking nails

Back against the tree where they used to kiss

Slumped against the bark, soon he’d be the same

The dead tree shades the already inky blood drops

He realized that he’d nearly made it there,

The outdated house with wood paneled walls

A breakfast nook and round windows. Green rug.

Not his own but it claimed him anyhow, arms wide.

He would never return home

His eyes began to well as his breaths slow

He would never return

A shaky rasping that soon turned to gurgles

He would never

And soon his breath would stop all together

He wouldn’t..

He couldn’t..

…

[bearlyliterate]

I’m afraid the things I hold onto will break into pieces

Bend and twist under the weight of my love for them

My intensity has scarred and scorched before

Driving people away from my warmth as if I were poison

I feel sometimes as though i can’t be redeemed

That my grip is too ironclad for flowers

My head too addled for sincerity

And my heart too selfish for space

But evidence suggests otherwise by the friends I keep

Who tolerate me anyway

And my bed is still full

Despite my supposed insufferableness

Maybe one day I will believe it

That I can hold something and it won’t die in my arms.

[bearlyliterate]

“Requiem for Blessing.”

Song reduced to scream

Screams reduced to gurgling

And only nineteen.

Unknown, yet close

They all feel like family

Tragic news headlines

Your obituary

this poem from a stranger

Distant eulogy.

[bearlyliterate]

“If a cat dies in the middle of a road, and no one’s around, did it ever make a sound?”

Nameless cat laid out

You deserved more than this

Fur still warm, and still.

You died all alone

On a starless country road

It was raining, you’re dry.

Were you anyone’s..?

I hope where you are

You feel peaceful and you’re loved

And your bed is grass

not this empty road.

And there’s endless stars on you

And your steps are light

And your belly is full

And you don’t know humanity

And how cruel we are.

I said a prayer

Our lady of the hunt

To take you up in her arms

Carry you like I did

Holding you like her own child

Off this road to rest.

[bearlyliterate]

Dexter

Bleary cataracts

And hips not longer steady

You lay more than play.

Though you’ve lived so long

Old boy please know, you never

Overstayed your welcome.

I hope you find me

In a place with endless sparks,

Shuffling cards, sled hills

Comfy beds, hot foods

and hoses that never dry

I’ll bring the ice cubes.

[bearlyliterate]

Paravisitation

I’d like you to stay,

Lingering in the things you left here

In the songs you wrote

I’d like to see you

In the reflection of fire

Sparks floating to you

You stay, and I see

But I see clearly your outline

The absence you left

And I can’t touch you

And can’t ever feel your warmth

I’ll take what I get

[bearlyliterate]

Three type theory

men (lowercase)

I know how I fit

And where you fit, I see it

All the injustice

I listen, hear you

And when I speak it feels real

And like we’re equals

MEN (uppercase)

I know where I fit

Where you fit, I don’t mind

I don’t understand

Though you have explained

Old dogs don’t want to learn tricks

So we just lay down

Pigs

I know where I fit

But I decide where you fit

All the injustice

I just preserve it

equal footing threatens me

I want to be king

[bearlyliterate]

Burnout Bird

Flailing shadows fall

From this nasty molting thing

Feathers drop like stones

Flying, you shed fast

Trying to get home, but ravens

Need feathers to fly

Sometimes resting here

Is a better choice than just

Dropping like a stone

[bearlyliterate]

Appalachia

The truest I’ve been

Was when listening to you

Still, like a chimney

The heat from my fire

Gathers and blows from fingertips

Arched into the sky

My minds concepts roar,

Crackling and splitting apart

Splintering my hands

Fires crawling, heaving

Staggering across the floor

And climbing the walls

Until nothings left

But me, standing still alone

Ashen broken stone.

[bearlyliterate]

Killer feeling

Heels dig into dirt

Sprinting faster, fall, scramble

Get back on your feet

Stubborn, terrified

Think of all you’d stand to gain

From one more deep breath

I want to leave more

Of myself behind than just

A blood soaked floor stain

[bearlyliterate]

It’s all too painful

To miss you so goddamned much

you thought I wouldn’t.

I trace my fingers

Across my forearm, your canvas

Sat on the carpet

Crisscross applesauce

In your small, hot apartment

Hard to breathe, AC’s out.

But I kept laughing

At the stories from your work

I trace my fingers

And the skin feels cold

Absent the radiant heat

Where your hand touched mine.

Three things stay with me:

My love for you, songs you sang,

And this wrist tattoo.

[bearlyliterate]

Something is missing

A detail or a feeling

A space left empty

The world feels grayer

The tree branches have less leaves

The fireflies are gone

Do you see it?

Can you feel it?

Do you smell the smoke?

Wake up, we’re burning alive.

[bearlyliterate]

There’s something scary

About letting your guard down

Enough to be known

To get comfortable

And familiar with you

It feels almost wrong

after a long while

You realize you’re alright

That there’s no danger

That the warm friction

Of two souls against each other

Is simply breaking in

Like a pair of boots

You keep your entire life

And thats what I want

To wear down, not break

But to be dependable

And to be wanted.

[bearlyliterate]

I’m used to being alone in my interests

Spitting facts id hope would lead somebody in

Scare people off with my intensity

How much I lived and breathed passion for my odd little hobbies

That id account for people’s disinterest

Factor in alone time with my writing and reading

I’d slowly given up on watching shows as a group

And shoveled 12 hours of supernatural in a day

My friends became my hobbies

And my hobbies became my friends

And then one day someone listened and I didn’t know how to respond to it

So I fixated on a new hobby

Getting to know this new weird kid until he made sense to me

I’m not used to being interesting

But he thinks I’m cool and I think that’s strange

So I find him interesting and beautiful

And i like that he likes what I like

So I like what he likes too.

[bearlyliterate]

Frozen hill in the dark And I chose to wear sneakers What a fool I am

Falling yet again Landing heavy on my knees The pain shocking me

It’s so familiar The desperate scrambling Just stand up straight

And pretend you’re ok Straining to find some friction Only to slip again.

[bearlyliterate]

The back of my brain Holds terrifying beauty just enough restraint

To stay here watching Like sunsets arching dimly Painting the skyline

With thin golden streaks The light burns lines in my skin Tiger raised red stripes

And I cry for joy Because the pain means I’m here And this is all real.