glory! : child

washer

Goodnight my love Remember me as you fall to sleep Fill your pockets with the dust and the memories That rises from the shoes on my feet I won't be back here Though we may meet again I know it's dark outside Don't be afraid Everytime I ever cried from fear Was just a mistake that I made Wash yourself in your tears And build your church On the strength of your faith Please Listen to me Don't let go Don't let this desperate moonlight leave me With your empty pillow Promise me the sun will rise again I too am tired now Embracing thoughts of tonight's dreamless sleep My head is empty My toes are warm I am safe from harm...

Tuesday, July 2, 2024

child

again i come here,

in fear of outing myself i might just speak freely and in half abstracted prose- i have encountered a face that i recognize as a mother and an abuser, a face to face to face me over my sleeping body and i cannot ignore it, her voice spoke years back at me and barked years ago with me and now i see her face not through the thin skin of my curtainous lids but right through the sheen of my teary, burning eyes. i have awoken to find her telling me i may not be who i have been trying to be, she says this to me often in my dreams.

you have mutilated yourself over and over, let some man take you as wife over and over, she says, you are asleep for now, dearest, but in your sleep your chest is a cavity and your vulva is a mound of pale skin as white as your belly. you harbor no life, barren thing. to you, new life is a condemnation of the gifter and the giftee.

your hot mouth is cold and you are corpselike and in some wicked sense, dead already. from your sleep. when you breathe awake you will die.

i dream of a penthouse in a windy city and versailles and bowie, a love so deep it aches and pulls my spine into the earth. i am in opium amber oriental sunset delta of venus hazed seventies. i speak to my mother and father, my sisters in arms, i tell them love is cheap and vulgar. what i want, what visits me in dreams, a half man pearlescent that holds my face over me and utters. sings, a lamp, graceful, wont touch me in ways that i find repulsive and could never be seen, by anybody, as depraved. curls deep chocolate and lashes like spiders legs, nails long. fractured the sides of my swollen skull with his frosted lips, caressed the edges of my hair with the tips of his fingers.

and who am i then, dearest.

no, no. i am no woman. never was.

i tried to break up with my boyfriend in sadness and fear he might strike and i will get an iud implanted. im a virgin and have not felt any sensation of that sort. i dont touch and i ignore its there, its a road near my house that i think only leads to suffering. im scared but im more scared of man.

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sylvia plath, the bell jar

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

Psalm 18: 6-11

In my distress I called upon the Lord, And cried out to my God; He heard my voice from His temple, And my cry came before Him, even to His ears. Then the earth shook and trembled; The foundations of the hills also quaked and were shaken, Because He was angry. Smoke went up from His nostrils, And devouring fire from His mouth; Coals were kindled by it. He bowed the heavens also, and came down With darkness under His feet. And He rode upon a cherub, and flew; He flew upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness His secret place; His canopy around Him was dark waters And thick clouds of the skies.