Saturday, October 5, 2013

I Am So Quiet

I am so quiet that
when I was born my parents
thought I was a shoe
and let me grow old in their closet.
I am so quiet that school bullies
see a chair where I sit
and don’t even tease me.
I am so quiet that
when I am screaming Mrs. Mancuso
shuts the window, thinking
Boy, it’s windy out today. I am so quiet that
when I sang at the talent show
they thought someone was testing the mics
and that the mics were not working.
I am so quiet that
I get scared at night if I hear myself
breathing. I am so quiet
that I wonder sometimes if my body hitting
the ground would make the same sound
as anyone else’s.

I Grew Up

I grew up needing something in my hands
and in my mouth at all times, some textured
thing to contemplate, to savor like a smooth stone
in rip-tide rushing water. I grew up
overwhelmed. I grew up
unaware of all my growing, not sure
where my inches and bones had each sprung from
or any of my fears. I grew up alone. I grew up
among women who laugh loudly and hang their bras
in the backyward. I grew up watching strangers

like myself. I grew up envying flies,
their wings, anonymity, short lives. I grew up
in confusion. I grew up loved and
unloved, as everyone does. I grew up needing
something to hold at all times. I grew up sucking
my fingers. I grew up
wanting. And now I am all grown up and

How Is It

How is it I could draw the strength to fight
on, like a sleek sword from its scabbard (or in stone)

from peachpale light dissolving into cloud?
The spine of me stiffens, and the slack jaw steels,

forced to face the beauty of the King who tells me
Go. With a hand in my hand.

We Are Not

We are not committed to each other, there’s no ring
around the fingers of our hearts, no paper
promise or key copies for the same door’s lock.
Why is stating this a shock? Why should my bones rebel?
How can I shudder at a fact when Truth and I
have long been friends? I ask the the Light to shut his mouth;
he looks at me with wounded eyes. These days I have made enemies
of Time and Space and Reason, everything
that threatens to come somehow
between us. But they stand at the door
and knock.