This poem, ‘disassociative,’ was published in Vol. II, Issue 02 of Ins&Outs Magazine in August 2008.
disassociative
and i can’t write to save myself
because the words don’t rhyme
and the feelings don’t flow
like they used to.
i feel like ever since november
i’ve laid to rest the part of me
that could feel pain–
the part that fought
the part that believed
but most of all
the part that survived.
now one day fades unintelligibly
into the next
and sometimes i don’t even remember
falling asleep.
i lose myself
and my thoughts and my words
are mangled and pieced apart
by the train rides and the late nights
and the girl in the mirror
who knows she can’t feel anything at all.
i’m drifting, but so violently
that i seem to destroy everything i touch–
and sometimes i wish i had
a bottle, a drug, a cigarette light
to help me drag this soulless body
through the night.
i burn my bridge to the outside world
and let the embers settle in my throat
until i can’t breathe
and it’s a relief–
because it’s my only chance to get
myself to go away.
every time i close my eyes
the grenade goes off and i see him–
my angel with his secret heart sewn shut.
his halo flickers like a fluorescent bulb
and paranoia sparks a fire in my blood
as i watch him catch a light
on a pair of smoldering eyes
and he savors the smoke
and her smile
without ever knowing i was there.
constellations of
scars and doubts and memories
stare down from the heavens,
laughing in my face
and i wonder
if you ever really know anyone at all.