AlloenDreams

i eclipse myself like the moon in phases i wane and wax shrink and grow the sun is both my depth and disaster it makes me shine but in time, swallows me whole i have my moments of rare brilliance, startling darkness for years my loved ones have tracked my progress learned i am just as cyclical as i emerge from new, a shadow, a sliver i grow nightly in increments one day, again i will shine

this year, i'd like to stand on my rooftop and let every christmas ornament shatter on the ground. i'm going to make a tirade of rending the neighbor's wreaths, take shears to every string of icicle lights. because this year, peppermint tastes like bile. the cookies in the oven smell like ash. every proclamation of the holiday turns my stomach. each written greeting reads like an obituary. the blaring bright lights read like neon reminders as i drive by. the tea kettle's scream mimics your own, and every shopping-bag laden mother has your haircut. for the entire month of december i've been chasing corners and doing double-takes, only to see

i eclipse myself like the moon in phases i wane and wax shrink and grow the sun is both my depth and disaster it makes me shine but in time, swallows me whole i have my moments of rare brilliance, startling darkness for years my loved ones have tracked my progress learned i am just as cyclical as i emerge from new, a shadow, a sliver i grow nightly in increments one day, again i will shine

I'm holding on to secrets so tightly my hands start to burn. Winter has come full-force, wind sending the windows quivering against their panes and snow blanketing the Earth in an ivory sheen.  We're all bundled up inside, pressed together for warmth to maybe give a bit of it to the not-still-living locked up in a metallic casket no bigger than a shoe box. The mix of flowers –yellow roses, her favorite– and the musty smell of the funeral home permeates everything, makes my nose crinkle up and eyes sting, spilling over with tears. The sea of nameless, faceless acquaintances part as I walk forward, cold hands on my back and muted, g

 Dear Mom, [I know this really isn't a letter like I promised, but you should be used to me giving less then I say I will] I'm going to feel bad, throwing you into the ocean. I'm going to have to clench my teeth, close my eyes, and grip my hip [because you're there, forever; in jagged scar tissue with upside down mountain capped M's and a blocky O, you're there, forever.] to keep myself from diving in after you and gathering you back together with the finest cheesecloth, molding you back together and filling you with all the beautiful things you've been drained of. I'll jam sea glass in your eye sockets and replace your weak bird bones wit

like a bow, bower, bounty, i am bending at the break there is nothing clean about this there is no precision, no half-point there is no beginning, no end just fragments: my heart spilt on linoleum, crumbling like plaster, spent like a heavy sigh i am heavy —just not in the typical sense no, i am small regardless of what my eyes, my hands, the numbers say i am a soul in a vessel the size of an ocean. i am lost, drifting from my head to my heart smaller means silence peace, the thrumming of my pulse the only crescendo no screaming, no tears my brain is quiet no matter how loudly it all crashes around me my brain is too hungry, to