animus

Sludge

The cold air blows up the spaces in my pants
up through the cracks in these floorboards
I’ve slipped over one thousand times bruised
my knees trying to wipe up the blood
I wasn’t quick enough to catch
with a bandage grateful many times over
for the lack of carpet in this new house, these
past few years have seen all
different sizes stained with the same feelings growing
hungry empty
 full enough to burst all over this wooden floor
lonely, happy? Freezing
makes me wonder why winter rolls around
each year and why for the first few months
I’m never brave enough to pull up those curtains
and shut the top windows. I swear that
arctic blast sneaks through and under and into me
countless nights and dreary days I lay here
wishing my nose wasn’t so cold and my
shoulders were small enough to hide from this season, but
 I love it when I’m thin
 last winter that chill was in my bones
eight layers under
sleep walking through each grey day alone
headphones blasting pen in hand layers of
padding between the pointy bottoms of my feet
and that harsh old ground
a secret thrill
that it hurt to sit down had to
tilt a certain way to fit the backs of the chairs
into the notches of my spine
shift low down so my arse didn’t ache
so bad. Balancing act
one leg crossed over the other
 trying not to notice the fat still covering
 my thigh bone stoned
all day, a soft afterglow every second
day

and I was someone.
Trying to clear that cherry flavoured cough syrup
thought from my throat it
choked me, tripping by the time I was
half way through and then
 I didn’t have to think about all those calories
coating my stomach from that disgusting bottle
we loved so much
didn’t have to know how to
walk or feel or even know we were
alive, bright days and flashing lights and
brilliant calm in the come down
clear headed now compared to then
filled up on smoke and excitement
when the measuring tape ends got closer together
when I was dizzy enough to faint
open my eyes up to be staring at the dirty ceiling
grateful my head had missed the toilet bowl
on the way back down to earth

but I think it’s just because I’m huge again,
  and forgetting how much it really hurt
how it hurt first and gave me a distraction
from the silence in my eyes
and then swallowed my life up. Beat me
around the head with numbers that are
impossible to escape
now I’m filthy but still cold sick and alone
again

 I spend more time in the bathroom than ever
making friends with the food I’ve crammed
down my aching throat on its way back out
I’m grateful my mother keeps this place clean
disgusted by my lack of control and wishing
I could feel something except ill and ugly so
silly so selfish and somehow you were here
the other night
warming me inside out, catching me in the blue black
of your eyes
words we didn’t have to say just felt in your fingers
under my shirt catching on old scars
road mapped out completely caught in the
strength of your sides, your ribcage
spine sunk in perfect
for my hand to run along
perfect distraction
perfect in general, your tongue in my mouth
and when we broke apart your blood all over me
my sheets stained with you
cut your vein open
it hurts you hurt
telling me you were so sorry, so stupid and that I’m beautiful.
 Liar, stranger. You worry wrong
wish I knew you well enough to take your pain away.

Reviews

[...]

you are so brave
and so sensitive
these words echo
and resound
they talk and they
explain
they reflect moments
of your heroic journey
and i am overwhelmed
to be a witness

[Pretty Faces Split Open]

I love absolutely everything about this !

[John Stussy]

I've been trying to figure out the best way to describe how you write, for you use specified styles of imagery in your writing that bring out cold and emptiness. Now, I believe I have identified what makes your poetry as profound as it is. Through the experiences of life, countless highs that have lived and died, everything, you somehow found a way to write in a gray manner (which i find just incredible, both to read and to write with), but you've taken it quite further along than most do. You've made gray vibrant in its own right through your descriptions, which, seeing as how gray is one of the most bland hues there are, is an incredible feat. I applaud you on this skill you can use so very well.