The steam erased my face….

The steam erased my face
and I thought this is the truest reflection
I’ve always wished to be faceless
so no one can demand expression
my lips don’t always crease right to the moment
and other people’s mouths pull tight around laughter
that the tightness is meant to hide
because it’s at my expense
embarrassment shades my cheeks
as I try to find the right shape
a formation of lines that are up or down
to draw emotion
as they lean with expectation
like they do when leading horses to do tricks
but I mustn’t get it right
or maybe it’s them, their faces that aren’t appropriate?
but no it must be mine because everyone agrees it’s me
my expression always drawn on by crayon
crooked and out of kilter to the moment

NaPoWriMo: Pushing through

Living and breathing
pushing through anxiety
like I’ll be pushing up daises
when death should come
Pushing through anxiety
like a mother pushes out babies
One breath, two breath,
fuck that
I’m here death!
I’m done running
chasing my next breath
one breath, two breath
Fuck that
Eat me, death!

Put my hands in the soil
my fingers worming through roots
touching death
teeming with life
humus is humorous
two shades
one called death, one called life
different shades of each
50 shades of life
remember, can you remember why the strife?
No, not that, the other one
I’ve got plenty, but not a wife!

I thought I thought a thought
that strangled breath
Something about the traffic
of things
an accumulation
Too much, too many
fuck, too many wires
no wonder I’m so fucking wired
Chasing electricity
electrified
terrified
One breath, two breath
three breath
Pushing through anxiety
like I’ll be pushing up daises
One breath, two breath
a wall of bricks with wires
tongue tied, tongue lied
Remember, can you remember
the one very specific thing I thought I thought?

NaPoWriMo: Alone sparrows

I’ve got a teenage forehead
but the rest of me has aged
I look pretty funny
but I never claimed to be anything but this mismatched man
if God is real I guess me being whole wasn’t part of the plan
God must’ve thought I could live on the edges
but look around
they’re all fenced up
ask yourself where are the birds and the hedges?
Does a bird mistake a fence for a hedge?
No, he knows.

It’s me alone with the sparrows.

NaPoWriMo: The dysphoria of twos

I’ve got some new boots
what does that mean for my other pair
it doesn’t seem fair
can both exist at the same time
or does one erase the other?
If I close my eyes does one pair stay
and the other disappear?
what if I wore odd boots, one from each pair?
will I look a mug, when I got out there?
if I keep them both in my sight
they’ll both exist and that will be okay, right?
unless one is my Monday pair
and the other is my Tuesday pair?
But does that mean I need to buy another fucking pair?
And then another, then another?
One for each day, so that none are left behind?
What a fucking bind!
I’ll keep the one pair, if you don’t mind.

NaPoWriMo: Smile, no frown

Hello fellow weirdos
I tried to be a storage of calm
but it seems I’m too wired for that
so you’ll have to take me as I am
restlessly still
my face don’t always translate what I feel
Perhaps the storm doesn’t cross my face
or maybe it does
I never know what expression it pulls
I tried pulling strings through my lips
so I could control them like puppets
‘Smile, no frown’
I tried to sew puppet string to my eyes
to express my confusion or lack thereof

The men who ate themselves

The world was smothered in white, a trees gnarly limbs pointed to the sky in accusation with curled fingers.
‘I can’t breathe out here,’ I reported.
‘Get back!’ Mack’s voice came through the static.
‘I can’t,’ I told him, ‘I can’t,’
‘You’re gonna die out there!’
My footsteps trailed behind me, I wanted so bad to cover each up, cover my tracks, ‘Soldier down,’ I said breathlessly.
‘Flint, If you don’t get back here now I’m gonna kick your fucking arse!’
‘soldier….down…’ I gasped.
‘Flint you fucker! We’re right here! Just walk back. Crawl back. Do anything and get back here, right fucking now! Don’t make me come out there!’
‘Mack, I’ve seen it.’ I fell to my knees, ‘I’ve…’ between each breath I uttered my words through gritted teeth, ‘seen it, Mack,’ a gush of wind blew the snow in circles around me. ‘He ate himself, Mack,’ a tear ran down my cheek, froze solid on its way down.
‘Flint, You cared too much. But it’s over, you need to let go.’
‘I can’t,’ I fell headfirst into the snow-covered ground. ‘I’m so tired Mack, I’m so tired of caring. The anger, the pain…’
‘Flint, if you let go you can get back! Let go!’
‘I can’t Mack. He’s a husk, a ghost. I never believed in ghosts but now I know they’re real.’
‘Right, that’s it!’
‘Don’t come out here!’ I screamed into the static, ‘Don’t come out here!’
Ghosts aren’t what you think they are, they aren’t the spirit of the dead they’re sadder than that. They’re living people who are helpless not because no one can help them, but because they won’t accept the help.
‘He ate himself, Mack,’ I cried into the void.

The snow slushed underneath me, my body leaving a trail covering up the footprints of the man dragging me.
‘You need to get out of his headspace,’ Mack was droning on, ‘he’s got you caged in his head.’ He paused and bent over winded trying to take a breath. ‘It’s an illusion, Flint,’ He coughed, ‘he got into your head and projected his own. you’re in his headspace inside your own headspace. You can let it go.’
I sat up and opened my eyes dazed and confused, he shut the door and switched the oxygen on, sat down next to me to get his breath back.
‘You don’t have to care all the time, Flint.’
But I knew I would. And I knew it would hurt and I was angry he saved my life.

I saw a man eat himself like the way the critters eat my mind. He ate me too, and now the critters in our heads eat us and we eat us and we’re all just consumed.

The machine

I can’t bend into the shapes
the machine wants me to be
and I’m always coming back to this place
a conclusion
I am not strong enough
for the world, I am in
All the equations add up to this
ever trapped in what and who I am
and between what the world wants to see
the things reflected back to me
the reflections of all the types of men
I ought to be

Meditation teaches us to breathe and be
but breathing is the least of your worries
when you’re feeling like me
and I can only really breathe
when I’m safe from change and stress
so really I learn nothing
and all of this is just a waste of breath

I often wonder what relief it would have been
to have been left to die when I was a baby
instead of still learning how to fucking breathe.

I see the world ahead of me
and I don’t want to be a part of it
but the machine wants me