Day 29

I figured it out.

I could understand where

your heartbeat stopped

and mine started.

That is why our

feelings faded,

your heartbeat was always so loud.

Day 28

I am wondering what it would feel like
to know God the way you seem to.

I have never been that sure of anything,
and I don't know if I ever will be
so I guess maybe I'm jealous of you
Because I would love to
know the answers to the
unanswerables.
I would like to feel that sure
about the intentions inside
my own pumping heart.

I didn't used to believe in nothing.
I used to feel sure the
way you do every Sunday,
but life changed and
my logic sharpened.
I became unable to believe in bigger things
and higher powers.

Most days,
I'm lucky if I believe in
the wind or myself.
Most days
I can't even stop long enough to
breathe the air that is
forced into my lungs
like a heartbeat that clutches me
in a throat-hold.

I want to  believe in the
sun or angels or
life after death.
I would love to believe in God
but I don't because I can't or I won't.
(that line has become blurred right now)
Like the atmosphere that is disintegrating
-a literal separation between heaven and hell.

It would be easier to get through loss and death
and broken hearts
if I believed in a greater plan.
It would be easier to love Jesus,
but I can't or I won't
(I'm not sure anymore)
and I'm not sure I'm capable of going back anymore.

I'm not sure I'm able to believe in angels or
heaven or deities.
I'm not sure I'm able to believe.

Day 27

You peeled me an elephant out of your orange.

It makes sense knowing me knowing you

we were children together

we grew up together.

I kind of forgot about how you squeaked

when you laughed.

I kind of forgot that it’s impossible

for you to sit still.

You told me the mountains were calling you

I am not surprised

you have always like to climb

and balance

fall and trust.

My home has never quite felt like

home to you.

I told you that you reminded me of a kite,

not only because you were high as one,

but because on your tail you have tied

so many dreams.

That part of you has never changed.

I hope wind and rain never change that.

Day 26: Poem Two

Somewhere else it is already morning,

they are walking in full daylight.

Somewhere there is a rainstorm,

it isn’t winter snowing.

Somewhere a child is opening their eyes for the first time,

what a sight they are seeing

(I wish I could remember that first look).

Somewhere a heart is breaking

mending

bending or

aching.

Somewhere there are

otters holding hands when they sleep

so they don’t float away from each other.

I would like to hold hands with you.

I would like to swap tales with you

I would like to watch the sunrise from a spaceship.

I would like to breathe more deeply.

Somewhere there are people sailing,

drifting toward new land

using a compass for eyes.

Somewhere people are sleeping

and having sex

and laughing

and hurting in their softest places.

Somewhere people are creating

and destroying,

opening

and closing.

Somewhere minds are wandering.

The brain matter blinking,

twinkling like lightning storms-

a homemade firework show.

I have been thinking that there is so much I do not know.

Dreaming of the way other people’s experiences intertwine with my own.

And I know somewhere you’re probably sleeping,

or drinking

or dancing,

loving or crying.

I wonder what you’re doing on nights like this when

the world seems endless

and impossible.

Whatever you are doing, I hope that you are doing it well.

Day 26

I’m falling for the stars

before they shoot back in space.

For some reason, this month

I’ve had the atmosphere on my mind.

I signed up for crowd sourcing jobs

recognizing nebula

I follow an astronaut that is live tweeting from space.

I have spent many a lunch hour wondering

why the moon is called moon

when that’s actually a category of

sky rock.

I think perhaps I’m wishing that I

felt like part of something bigger,

I want there to be life beyond us.

I want to feel small.

I want to look down on it all,

you must be able to achieve an

astronomical level of clarity

from so high up.

So high up that up probably doesn’t exist anymore-

more like around.

I want to be surrounded by the idea of being,

small.

Day 25

walking home

phone in my hand

keys in my hand,

grasped firm like jagged knuckles

I am only afraid of the dark when

others walk next to me

across from me

near me.

Walking home

the night feels so peaceful until you approach

on your bike,

by foot,

who is in that car?

walking home

The street light is burnt out

I never have my headphones in

at night

walking home

I know logically that your maleness

does not make your predator.

I know emotionally I am

filled with unbridled fear

phone in my hand

keys in my hand

I don’t want to unconsciously judge your presence

but I have been raised to feel fear.

I do not want to

ruin a beautiful sky like tonight

with this anxiety

walking home.

guard up

phone in my hand

keys in my hand

walking home.

I feel safer when I feel like

I’m really alone.

Day 24

The words sweat clear and slow

out of your chameleon  head-dress.

They cannot expect or project

your downfall.

You were a strong woman,

breaking silence the way they broke-in

your womb

with a creative ferocity that bends

wills and minds.

I know that you’d prefer to be remembered

for your gentle smile

but a summoning strength

that muscle and fascia

hold to like algae

is your reality.

You have crossed the ocean many times.

Leaving pieces of your ships

and shells

for us to find.

I wonder who you were to your children.

Soft breath and singing,

holding them like sand through your hands.

I do not think you a tyrant.

I do not think you a harlot.

I prefer to clutch your agency,

and hold on to that in your memory.