things fall apart (act 2)
the smashed word open vowel
the cracked up glass open smear
the burgeoning little biggest thing
the centre that couldn’t hold
the stain that couldn’t be found
the silent roared up hurt
the roared up heartbroken vowel
the concise silent hurt
the bereft cold concise silence
always the middle.
things fall apart
old crack smoldering hurt
old cracked mask
old mask crumbling hurt
split spill spilled
bigger the biggest
pain, dying and other things.
the centre hurt
old, hot burning woe
mask crumbling hurt
she was vehement floodlight
and gun powder,
they couldn’t recognize her burning
he wanted me small,
but I couldn’t fit into hands.
and so he cut off my tongue,
but my heart roared in silent magnitudes
he told me his irises were burning,
that my light was too bright
but i couldn’t be burnt out
and so he took my body instead
and never gave it back
open your eyes, honey, it’s all a flux
the universe is never constant
forever moving, changing, evolving, as you should too
he kisses my feet/I think him strange
he kisses my mouth/he kisses my hands/I imagine your lips
I turn to rot/i wondered if he could taste you on my skin/
I wear you every night/”see, it’s not you” I tell him, “It’s just that you’re kissing all the places that burns.”/
He asked me where does it not burn/i tell him nowhere
my skin has burnt to ashes.
can’t you see it?
can you see it?
once I began shutting the world out an entire universe opened up inside of me
I stopped looking for you and started looking for God instead,
And so I went back into myself and found that loneliness did not exist,
it was merely the abondoned child who couldn’t find her way back home