I know it’s a little late,
but I have a few New Year’s resolutions.
This year, I will walk around my house
in my underwear
blasting T. Swift
&
I will not
give
a single
fuck
who
sees me.
This year,
I resolve,
I will eat some sort of sandwich
in the bathtub
while drinking a goddamn bottle
of fancy-ass wine.
This year
I probably won’t get a better job,
but I will talk about needing a better job,
and you might think
I haven’t planned this out very well.
But it is hard to set goals for yourself
when the most difficult thing
you can imagine
is continuing to exist inside this body,
which is to say,
last year
I poured myself out sacrificial
and prayed for any sort of miracle,
which is to say,
last year,
I learned just how many ways
you can kill yourself daily
while still waking up the next morning,
I have been a silent opera,
all open mouth quiet screaming,
am I supposed to be grateful
to have survived this?
Do you really think Lazarus wasn’t angry
when they opened up his tomb?
Do you really think you can come back
without bringing hell with you?
Lazarus and I,
we are not afraid of zombie movies.
We know what it’s like
to be a dead thing
walking around among the living;
We have learned a thing or two about resurrection,
This year, I am full up with fire—
do not mistake this for burning;
This year, Lazarus reborn in me;
This year, I am not sorry,
This year, I am made entirely of teeth.
gummygunk
germansingergirl
romaincrisis
titsay
