Pain waits

 Imagine what pain says.

I’ll keep in touch.

I’ll write from inside your bones.

I’ll leave messages in your blood.

Pain waits.

Pain waits.

Pain waits.

For the pills to stop.

For the fog to lift.

For the truth you have to find

for yourself first.

Pain is patient.

It watches you swallow

and swallow

and swallow.

It watches you build soft little coffins

out of denial.

Pain waits.

The pain I refused to feel

dug in its heels.

And so did I.

I stopped screaming

like a woman on fire.

I learned a quieter trick.

I became a shell.

A bed.

A lie.

A woman hovering

between living and leaving.

A woman

refusing to live

and refusing

to die.

pace is the trick

Waking up to the same noises 
worrying if I lost the ability to cry back there
because
Everything was so sad 
you're amazed by anything again
you watch it happen:
Sadness leaves it's mark
and
The wound is now a scar.
You dreamed about it-
the pace of nature//the space that heals you
you wake up to that place and look in the mirror
finally//with both eyes open
telling yourself:
--I am not ashamed nor proud
a mark is a mark is a mark
Without knowing it everyone has broken someones heart.

YOU LIKE YOUR GIRLS INSANE.

basic notes on the subject of__________
include: these long neon nights
they always were so friendly to my 
pupils my pulse my heart energy 
passing it to others who
carry alot of hurt on their face and backs and arms
and i humbly confess i can feel pain that is not my own
the hated,the loudest one at the table,the isolated man who asks me
what planet i came from and you have nothing to say back but you do get a chance to breathe properly
the lows of waking up 
excepting the feeling that he is saying:
she the "naive"
  - to what?
 electricity? 
                       what feelings feel like 
within one week
never let me go
desert island
hospital sweaters
then there is
the eek of an ocean
just looming
wasn't killing anything 
not even the fire-
THE fire that let us down,the fire that promised us the universe, leaving us
addicted to the high of something bright like a north star that would bring us to read or leave a country for good.
                                  (months go by.)


the eek was lying
the fire looked almost anemic
i look pale
you are silent
both(separately) are just looking at the moon
because you are starved 
for communication with
something constant
and nightly we both just ask it:
"why aren't we even breathing?"
                               (my final thoughts of this 2yr time frame is...)


When the quiet or even the chaos drives you mad
remember that you are sound and the word mad is a curse word.
So yes,neon nights and the want of the ocean felt like love
...but
What you feel is not always reality and what you fear you will end up serving.
(and the very idea of slavery should make you sick if not you are most likely,literally.....sick.)
i have written a thousand love letters that were actually feeling letters 
and now i know the difference. 
if you stay in the dark all of your life you will never learn to see properly.
turn on the lights,i promise you,THEN you will feel free.
don't be a slave to your own mind and don't be afraid of your weak memory.