UntitledToday, Icannotturn the music up loud enough.I want the music loud enoughthat I can feel it reverberate through meAt a cellular level.I find myself lost in the rhythms,full of emotionsI don't have words for,wrapped up in the complexity of lyrics.Every breath rises with a joyThat threatens to split meAs though I've grown too smallTo contain it.And again.Play it againSo all of me can hear.Play it loudSo I can feel.
broken transmissionpsssssshhhhhhcracklePOPchirp"This is...Do you copy? Over."Sometimes, love...sometimes love is so bewilderingthat I can feel so muchfor a soul dwellingoutside the skin I live injust because the other exists.Joy in mundane coexistence.But.cracklePSSSSHHHHpop"This...me...DO YOU COPY?"Millimeters apartclose enough to conduct electricitybetween us, across that miniscule gapthe words just aren't flowingand I'm failing to reach youand I'm falling apartlike a broken walkieor a radio station broadcastingat the stars in hopes that the right earswill catch the signalbefore the last star blinks outI blink tears away.Screaming on the inside"YOU DAMNED FOOL! I LOVE YOU!THIS IS ME LOVING YOU!"because action isn't as you had imaginedPssssssssshhtCHIRP"This is me...DO YOU COPY?"and I love you with force and fiercenesstransmittingand not being heardor feltacross that chasmthough my love is actionand action and reactionand I get out of bed each dayto show you with my
slippingbrutal winterfreeze/thaw/freezeechoes through my bones-not old bonesnot young bonesbut somewhere between the birthingand the dying,middle ground, middle grown?The creak and grindas I try to simplymaintain.Things don't heal like they did.If they ever truly did.Oh, body.You're slipping.S l o w i n g downgrinding and clicking,those old-ish bonesthe creaks and groansskin marred with storiesI may or may not have toldand stories yet to appearbut not yet marking me.Grey hair no longer sneakingbones, damn bones with theircreaking,oh, body.you're slipping.
empath.It was your choice.I let you choose.I sit here and watch youflinch and grimace.you over did it again.and now-and now I situnable to helpunable to fixand I'd take all the painabsorb it allto see those blue eyesdance againinstead of agonized squinting.My heart breaks daily,feelingis really overrated some days.
AtlasI can tell you all dayhow amazing you arebut you can't hear me over the voicesyou've heard first, telling you over and overquite the opposite.and I want to silence them.I can't silence my own, you know.I want to counter every negativewith something positive.I want to see you experience joy.you deserve that muchafter saving me.You deserve betterthan life has brought.You carry so much pain with youfrom the days before this one.I fear you might breakif one more thing falls onyour shoulders.but then, maybe I can return the favor.maybe I can help save you.
first birthWithin an inflatable pool,levity exists in the form of cartoon-fishpainted upon the sidesas I find myself gripped by the replication of my speciesIn that primal zonebetween lizard and human brainI vocalize.I bring forththe voice of a hurricaneinto the stillness of the roomshouting him into being--powerful.Willing him into existance. Willing it to be over. Tapping into the forceof my foremothers with all the intensity they offer- I FAIL TO SEE THE BEAUTY IN THIS MOMENT ...then I do.and then the pain comes around againharderfasterharderfasterROARING, ROARINGdeep and primal until I feel myself s p l i t t i n g opento reveal that tender new self still yet unaware of his being separate pulsing cord connectedpurple and blinking and pissed knowing cold for the first timebut here, earthside. Mine.Together we rest, spent.