You can't break the loop of thirty years. You have been marked. You may have resurrected yourself but somewhere you have died those thirty years prior and you will never leave that reality. You are forever in room of suspension. There is no address, no phone, no outside knowledge of this room to anyone else. Your secret. Your curse. Life goes and you grow and age and seasons come and disappear and deep inside while you have hoped patiently waiting it's your turn finally, but now you realize this has all been decided those thirty years ago. 

I've died before

the story is old I know but it goes on

the tilting of the hour glass

R.I.P. 20 years, how could so much time have been stolen away from me?

_______________________________

I. Love obsessed with suicidal men
I swear I didn't know until
I crept under their covers
listened to their heartbeat.
I have already picked apart their secrets,
they hide in front of everyone
in plain sight.
I keep chasing boys
who will never replace my father.


II. He would come back a lion,
claw apart the bodies who
have left their marks on me.
I'd comb back his thick mane,
bring him to where I have been
living the past few years.
The streets are somewhat empty,
it's cool out, the pavement 
is easy on his paws.
I joke he is my big protective dog
but he doesn't say anything,
I see his eyes fixated
on moving forward,
he won't look at me.
I want to be a little girl,
have him carry me on his back,
but I get the feeling he is too old,
I don't bother to bring out
my child voice.


III. It is not just quiet between us,
there is silence,
a thickness of air because
we haven't been together
in this atmosphere
for many long and awaiting years.
We don't like the sunshine,
the night is our best friend.
I think to myself,
he will leave before daylight.
I think back to when I was young,
I wonder why we never watched
a sunrise together.
We continue walking
where I was born,
where he was a young man,
where he met my mom,
where unfulfilled hopes
of our family started.
He can still walk faster then me
in the city's landscape,
I keep thinking,
we must not stop because when I
look over next time he will
have disappeared,
but I can't help myself.
I want to see the same eyes I have,
the eyes I first looked into when
I was waking up from being a baby,
I want to know where he lives inside.


IV. I have caught up to the lion's stride.
I am afraid, but  I am more afraid
of never knowing.
I turn around, close my eyes ,
and hug the lion.
I hear a faint whisper,
"Goodbye Heather."
When I open my eyes
he is gone,
no scent or hair.
I try but I feel the same as I always do,
there are no signs of his presence here or then.
I don't feel the lion went to a grand kingdom.
No night,
no heartache,
no joy,
will recreate him


V. My father was here.
The lion did walk with me.
It is fall outside,
but tonight it will snow.

I mistook that life's illusions would grant me passage or leeway this time around

scratched till I bled and then went at it again

The summer has come sprung open 20 years from inertia to bring about the prospect of death again because life imitates its worst parts stitching the wounds haphazardly, tyrannical eruption against the heart clotting the blood and setting restart.

 My favorite traumas are the ones I can repeat as I restore the wound back to its rightful catastrophe while continuing to nourish the beast making sure it has plenty of new blood to spoil, spill, dissolve, rinse and repeat. Someday maybe death will not be my default as I daydream. Maybe I can conquer and not subsist morbidity in place of all the future chances or let it steal every decision I cannot bring myself to risk.

Then I start to realize either I can laugh or I can cry because I am going off script.

though it's all over now your all I ever dream about because I think your the only dream I ever had that I was going to have, and I've asked and wanted too much, so that was my dream and the rest were used before time was up, don't wish young one, your growing old, its over now

17 yrs, does it cut your cheekbone any less, saturate your under-eye circles more, do you have a moment to breathe ? I think I've lived more than I might ever be able to pen, I think I've lived so intently that when or if and when nor how they will slide my body through the back door cold or not, than debriefing will take place and will be more brief either panic or sadness. 

I could have walked away 

one week 17yrs 

but I made a choice, here is to all the choices I made that no longer have merit lessen and deepen the fear

I guess I could have said no but I choose not to. I did not walk away. 

Maybe I took on the wrong set of plans.

Low

You try to sleep
'Cause there's never enough
You try to sleep
But then you never wake up
Inside the dream
You take a step
You come to see
To see your debt

Try to sleep
Don't look at the camera
Try to sleep

You stretch your wings
You take a breath
You hide your feet
Embrace your head
A tragedy
No, there's never enough
You try to sleep
But then you never wake up

Try to sleep
Don't look at the camera
Try to sleep

But then you never wake up

I just wanted someone I could walk at night with

I just wanted someone who could teach me how to sing the blues in key

I just wanted someone to stop me from walking into traffic

I just wanted someone so I would not punch out the power line box with a knife

But it’s too late because I brought a monster home who poisoned the well damaged the marrow

I am not trusted that I won’t bring back a demon to the lair once more

If people you knew as a child, were indifferent to you, then another year hated you, and then another would wave hi to you,

 Ask you why you’re so ugly, ask you why does your father come get you, and ask you, how come you never smile

Isn’t that person going to be better off alone?

Better that the computer light never goes out

And that you do not have anyone who would care that you finally got your ears re-pierced

That when you sat in the chair you were relieved it was a needle for thread that you did not need to be numbed only given a one second warning

Knowing it was not going to be painful, it was soon going to heal with a lovely and shameless scar, no one knowing you is invested in such a memory

You just wanted someone to speak late at night with that would not make you feel they could steal everything from you

That if you got too close they would corrode you or the person only let you talk so they might be closer to an opportunity to take off your flesh

There is the last one

There is the right one

And I will never know either

all through the night all I hear is your heart

Daddy and me in a temporary indoor zoo somewhere in central NJ, winter 1991 or early 1992