Windows — a collection of poems
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My eyes hurt.
They are broken glass — fractured like a windshield.
I imagine the source — a mass of pressed tissue
Concave, with a hairline fracture spreading
Towards the pupil
Most of it barely visible to anyone
It’s off-center — somewhere to the left, I think
Seemingly benign
But threatening in its fragility.
I’m not sure how it got there. What random mishap
First lodged itself there?
How do I not remember? How did it one day
Just appear.
I feel as though I should know
But I don’t
It’s just this thing that maybe should matter.
But I’m not sure.
It’s just a scar that marks an occasion that happened
Without notice
My eyes hurt.
I close them — press my fingers to the outlying bones
And rub
It’s a small offering — an afterthought of a careless life
How do I not know?
How could I have failed
To keep in check all the things that may in fact
End up ruining everything.
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Today I am in a nails on the chalkboard kind of mood
Everyone is a scratchy sweater
Don’t look at me
Your glances are drawn out conversations
And every judgment is a walk that is too long
I lost interest long before you did
Today is burnt popcorn
It is making my eyes water
I want to escape to a room
Where there is more air.
It feels like dry hands
I can’t escape the desire to fix it
And I don’t want to touch ANYTHING
I just need to find some kind of lotion -
Something to soothe my irritation
But you are standing there
Looking at me like an answer to a problem that
I’ve been working on for hours.
Like you’re a solution that can just be handed to me
But I’ve already poured hours into this headache
And I don’t want to be handed a good day with a smile
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My father’s heart is kind.
But his lungs are made of smoke and the kind of stubborn
That winds through generations, creating
Sharp edges and sad stories
I can read in my momma’s eyes.
He’s like dancing
A rhythm lost between my feet and hips
Something I can feel, but not
Understand
Something that creates loathing and longing at the same time
He snaps his fingers and smiles
Eyes closed
My own eyes burn with memory
And the endless wishing of little girls
I cannot reconcile what I see and feel
I cannot separate the parts of him
That are drugs
And the parts that are genuine
Maybe there isn’t a difference
I wonder if it matters.
Maybe it’s more important that he is nice
But each nice gesture is a plea to forget
An invitation to overlook
and
I’m not sure if his kindness should
Cover his lack of judgment.
I want it to.
I want to think of the people he’s helped
The kind words and hugs he offers
So freely
But the part of the kindness that covers me
is riddled with holes
It doesn’t feel like warmth.
It feels like resolution.
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If your apology was a person
It would be a sprinter
timed for the speed it could fly right by me
wrapped in the contentment of how it
feels to win
My feelings
just a blur on the sideline
My heartbeat
nothing more than a stopwatch
If your love were a thing
it would be a mirror
only existing to make you look good
A tool to improve your image
a device to keep me in two-dimensions
never whole —
not to you
If your anger were a force of nature
it would be a tornado
because you suck all the air out of a room when you lash out
like you are the center of gravity
Your anger spins the things I felt were safe and throws them into the walls of our home
I’ve learned to spot the warnings
sound the alarm
take cover
If leaving you was a color
it would be blue
Blue like the clear summer sky
blue like the waters of the Pacific
endless in its beauty
Now, apologies are prayers
love is a braided rope
Anger is a whisper
And you
are a memory.
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I think the couch was brown
I’m not sure.
The house was dirty. But it wasn’t
Mine — so I didn’t care.
Not really
I was focused on your mouth.
The way it moved on mine like I was a delicacy.
Like your tongue could taste my secrets.
Your hands were so careful
On my hips. Strong — like a hug
You were in front of me
Pressing your body against my
Open legs.
I didn’t even realize you were
Moving
Didn’t even feel the feather
Thrusts against me
Not until my heart
Began to race
And my breath began to
Catch
And I thought, ooooh
Ohhhhh, This is what it’s like
But then
I caught a movement
In the corner of my eye
And your friend was watching
At the window
And suddenly, all the dirtiness of the house
And the grime of the couch
Was caught in my throat
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Things fall apart
Slowy
Unraveling — a hole in a favorite sweater
I don’t want to throw it all away
Just yet
There is comfort in what is familiar
A certain hope that comes with
Having a place to stand
No matter the shaky ground
I collect the fragments of my ideas
Hopes I once called lifestyle
Beliefs I once called friend
Piecing them together
I create something new
Less pretty
Not nearly perfect
Broken
Like a prom queen at a class reunion
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If I were there a second time
I’d look you in the eyes
Holding your gaze
Pressing upon you the love I couldn’t say
Or even fully feel.
I would wrap myself up beside you
In a tangle of acceptance
Complicated in varied measures of allowances
If I were there a second time
I wouldn’t try so hard to forgive -
To round out the rough edges of
Your vulnerability
I would let you be naked — if even for a moment
Without squinting
To make the picture
Just so
If I were there a second time
I would do it better
I would hold your hand before I ran away
Leaving you to your inward rot
And ringing hell.
I would try
Try to soften your skin
To press my palm against your cheek
To give you some pride
In the growing darkness
I did love you
But I would love you better
If I were there a second time.
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The neighbors were at it again
Meticulously manicuring their lawn
Planting flowers in neat little rows
Each an apology for the chaos
Created by angry hands over
A long winter
Green lush grass covering all the ugliness
Of the hard, frozen ground as if
Summer had always been
And there they were
Watering, mowing, fertilizing
Frantically participating in the lie they
Tell themselves every year — that
It will all be okay
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One more thing before you go -
I hate the way you talked to me last night
Just to save your ego in front of your friends
You yelled at me
In front of everyone
Until I was nothing but the space between your tongue and teeth
You’re such a small person — but you
Grew ten feet, sucking in all my dignity as you grew taller
I didn’t deserve that.
No one does
One more thing before you go -
I think you’re a shitty person
You’re not very nice and you’re selfish
You should know that sometimes when I look at you
I try to bore the thought into your forehead while i smile
And play nice
You’re so mean and I hate it
But this. This is how it always ends
One more thing before you go -
I love you.
I say it to the back of your head
You didn’t even stop when I called your name
Then I look in the mirror and try
To think I’m strong
But coward is written in my eyes
Just one of the many truths
I can’t escape
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I grew up ashamed of my conscience
It made me boring
Like a navy-blue dress, knee length and high collared
It made me feel like a ruler
One everyone measured themselves against
They always came out wanting
And I didn’t even say anything
I was just there
Wearing my conscience like a Sunday suit
It wouldn’t have mattered, I guess
Were it not for the fact that
I was also nice
It really is an unbearable combination
That mix of righteousness and likability
It just makes everyone feel a little ashamed
Or defensive
Or both
Like I was the living embodiment of a New Year’s Resolution
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In eight hours I will open my eyes
I will remember in the slow fog of morning
That I am married
I will recall my life in pieces
Placing them on the counter in
Front of me
There is my daughter — I will look at her a while
And wonder at her age (13!)
Here are my sons.
I let my fingers trace their delicate cheeks
And pause
And remember that
I like my life
That I am happy
I collect them
Curling my fingers around each “proof”
But I’ll leave a piece behind as I go
It’s the one that says
Your belong here
And
This is yours to keep
And I’ll go through my day
As if all the pieces were a whole
As if fear hadn’t gnawed at the edges
In all the places I used to know
For sure
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My daughter took too many pills
Two weeks ago
There was no big build up
No big signs
Just a phone call -
Then a ride in an ambulance
A knowledge that she would be okay
And that nothing was okay at all
I felt angry
What was she playing at?
She didn’t mean it
She just wanted attention
And I loved her
Loved her, Goddamnit.
I thought of how she held my hand
And snuggled on the couch
How she had to hear “I love you too”
Every night before she could sleep
I felt like nothing but a warm blanket
A comfort item she had outgrown
And when I found the letters
Oh! How I cried!
She wrote pages and pages to her friends
And a paragraph for me
Keep teaching, she said
I’m sorry
How completely insignificant
A mother’s love can be
Wasn’t it just yesterday that my kisses were magic wands?
I watched her throw up all night in the ICU
She didn’t ask for me to hold her hand
All I could do was look
She is grown now
Past the danger -
But in the dark night
When I close my eyes
I wonder
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