#wonderingwords

[wonderingwords]

I Don't Remember Last April

Spring me into a feeling

with the season

The rain that confuses is what I aspire to be

every droplet looks like tears to me

the happy kind, wash off those worry lines

I fall from fluffy tufts

curtains of clouds

draw me in smelling of shower songs

the sound and the sense

are one.

One part rational, two parts ballad

which came first, color or number

you were green

I was a four

and even then we loved each other

[wonderingwords]

can't contain chaos

I struggle to find my voice

because I took the hardest hits there.

absorbing damage with my one advantage

if I find the right words, I know I'll recover

but eloquence is not bliss

and the most massive destructions

start from inside a bottle

an open wound has incredible potential

(easy to imagine when you're on fire)

what else can you do but build while you're burning?

[wonderingwords]

Mouse Trap

A twisted body wriggles against glue.

attempting desperately

to escape,

lungs expand rapidly

it squeaks hopelessly.

I'm sorry; this was never what I wanted

My lover sleeps peacefully next to me

he doesn't wake at 4 AM to this agony

and the kids on my street resist their Christian schooling

but can't change their parents' minds yet

the grown humans in Kansas who learn they were never meant to be born

mothers admit they didn't know what abortion was

Chicago homeless just aiming to make it through the night

women throughout history restricted, beaten, raped

temperatures rising, tropical storms intensifying

we send ships to the moon and mars because anything's better than the chaos here

our grandchildren try to clean up our clusterfuck

polar bears have long since died off

Red Bull sold by the gallon to 12-year-olds

teen girls associate empowerment with blowjobs

"I am woman

hear me ignore"

My daughters will never be safe from danger

I'm sorry; this was never what I wanted.

Lost souls around the world searching for songs as inspiration

sifting through the club beats and misogyny for love stories in symphonies

finding none

we all sleep between narcoleptic nightmares and insomniac insanity

the never-quite-successful getting along in a world of light bulb extinguishers

a toddler with two moms wants to be sunshine for a living

his heart will break when he learns that doesn't pay the rent

unless we've evolved to that rationality--

God, I want to make that happen.

when love is the only way we can fight against darkness and adhesive

I start with poems.

[wonderingwords]

how I want to see when I grow up

pushing backward + forward with my legs

wind rushing past my face

eyes closed, alone, feel the energy pump through me

the chains within my grip shudder at my momentum

tip my head back + open my lids

clouds enchant me

how is this, upside-down, so pretty?

the sun hides behind, cooling the sky

Away on this swing I could fly like a bird.

in awe of the beauty often above me

mind reeling with questions of meaning

Some day I'll be an optimist

because I always look up.

[wonderingwords]

one day at a time

My dad stopped drinking when I was 14

Yet to this day

I cannot smell beer

without wrinkling my nose

and frowning slightly.

Resenting every other Tuesday

that my mom and I would sort the recycling

and the echoing sound

of all those bottles

clinking

against each other.

The Saturdays when he'd go running

then come back with his friends

and empty a few bottles

before going to work

for the rest of the day.

The Fourth of July's I never looked forward to

(the bugs, the heat, the food)

but mostly the loud noises

that increased as the day went on

my dad had more to drink

and more fun with fireworks

as I covered my ears

and hoped that he'd be safe.

All the nights he worked late

of course, going out with clients

is working--

my mom would mention in passing

that she wished he

were home more

I of course wished the same thing

but after she tucked me in

I could only lie in the dark

and wonder

how long she'd stay up

waiting for him.

And that night

when I felt the most afraid

and utterly helpless;

Mom and I were up late watching a movie

the doorbell rang

I let her answer it

as I stood in the hallway

in my oversized t-shirt.

Some man she seemed to recognize

was helping my father walk in

Dad was smiling simply

unfazed by the cut on his forehead

She thanked the man

after he said it was a slip on the ice

then guided her husband up the stairs.

I stood by in horror

because I was the only one

besides our dog

that seemed worried about the situation.

Dad was silly and unbalanced

Mom, only tired.

I followed them quietly

she was helping him undress

and go to the bathroom.

She closed the door behind her

then readied his side of the bed

and I frantically asked

"Mommy, what if he falls in the bathroom?"

"He won't. He'll be fine," continuing with her task.

"But Mommy..."

It could've been the sound of my voice

or the look on my face

but she paused, sighed, and took me in her arms

I didn't know what was going on

just wanted to stay comforted by her forever

So I went to bed as she helped him into theirs

and thought to myself,

Maybe she wasn't scared like me

because she's seen him that way

more than once.

I don't know if worry was born with me

or simply nurtured at a young age

but after worrying about my parents

for so many years

and knowing what that did to me

I told myself I'd never give them reason

to worry for their baby.

It doesn't work that way

They certainly worry

but for almost five years

I've watched my dad go to meetings

and my mom believe in him

They're so much happier than they used to be

Whichever Step says "make amends":

my dad did that,

on a car ride,

he promised me, "Never again."

[wonderingwords]

tricky questions have simple answers

Do I still have

feelings for you?

Have I moved on

at all?

In much too short a time

(or maybe too long

from your point of view)

I regurgitated all the sadness

into lost words

with no intention of

comforting others hurt

I stewed in my smug satisfaction;

I knew this would happen.

I knew this would happen.

Crying was critical

to my survival

And with a sweeping static

I decided to

be okay.

I was not relieved or

released

but my heart had the freedom

to open itself back up

Now knowing

that yours has

done the same

something stirs within me--

Jealousy?

Surprise?

A hint of old feelings?

No

Quite different this time;

I'm happy for you.

And I didn't think

I could ever be again

[wonderingwords]

the ones that stay with us

He said to me,

"Does it bother you,

me writing about other people?"

Yes.

It does.

However,

I have written about so many other people

loved ones

lost ones

and ones who never knew how I felt

All the sentences penned

that I never said out loud

All the frustrated scribbles

and "what the fuck" couplets

So many poems that now seem absurd

because I never made my words heard.  

So what bothers me

is that I read your words

of unrequited affection

and it breaks my heart

to know that you've

felt that

too.

[wonderingwords]

We've both been liars.

In an instant of intimacy

I realized a similarity:

He used to lie a lot

I used to lie a lot

and we're both done with that shit.

It's only when I write it down that I comprehend the irony:

He writes stories and I write poems

exclusively truthfully.

Enough is enough, I rebuff

yet he is the one to first claim love

and it hurts so bad that I've said it before

because this may be the first time I've been sure

but honesty is a trust we both believe in

and a month has been a damn good start.

We've been learning for 18+ years

now is probably the time to make the most of it.