I wake up in the middle of the night and convince myself that I want to jump asleep. I am paralyzed by fear of falling and that applies to everything. There are so many things that I want too many people to know, like how when you say purple I’ll think about veins, that we are all only highways that don’t know where they’re taking the people they love, conduits and disappearing lines that simply desire to for once be the destination.
I sometimes wonder if I am funneling electricity or only tears.
And what of you- if your currents are the opposite, how long until we electrocute the world? It would be its own fault anyway, what with all the forks I have felt over these years.
I put in earphones and listen to other people’s silence, I wear neon eye shadow so they’ll be afraid to look at me, I do not want to be beautiful
or called at in a parking lot, grocery store, anywhere,
because this planet breaks things after it smiles at them.
Can we move to the spaces between the joints of Orion?
I have been promised words that are not compatible with humanity;
I have heard of ships and helicopters but my own escape comes through tunneling to magma and incinerating each grieving parasite on my surface.
I had to laugh when they said it didn’t seem like something I’d do-
stepping off docks without life jackets and depth markers, or walking into the troposphere with no set return date, or telling you yes- because who am I anyway, and how can they claim to know me simply because they have seen my arrangement of atoms in various places over the course of a couple of years? I do not even know where I’ve been. My farthest friend is a meteorite I wish I could carry in my back pocket. She turns my skies silver and sees through all my mirrors, believing there is a best.
My nearest friend is an explosion. She can support such weight on her shoulders that I occasionally think that the reason I might not carry a grudge is because she has adopted them and raised them as her own, never changing their names.
I have fallen in love with a collection of words
who seems to be consistently smiling; I walk on my heels around him because my toenails are experiencing earthquakes. I have fallen in love with the pavement. My friends are all tree branches and I want to take away every foolish person’s pair of pocket knives.
Drawing hearts on someone else will not make you feel any more.
Please, can we move to the edges? I want to forever keep waking up,
and not have to let myself dream.