Author: poetryfest

There’s not much room left for you.

But you jump in nose first anyhow,
No matter how I flinch, no matter how I yelp.

You say I shouldn’t be afraid.
It’s not natural.

“…if you’re scared under the water, just find a bubble.”

Spilled over.
Everything is ruined.
Everything is wet.
Wet and ruined.
Things will never be not ruined and not wet.

Words go flat in the mourning. Words go flat when you arrive to an auctioned home.

Sometimes I forget why things got wet in the first place. But I know how your car smells.

I would know exactly who you are if I had just met you or saw how you kiss a child’s head.

Spilling over.
Everything is dry. Not yet wet. But the glass is shaking and…

How long do I have left with you?
How long until I forget your face?
how your car’s smells?
how you kiss a child’s head?
How long until you love me and then hate me and then love me again?
How long until I’m grown and then a child and then grown?
How long until it’s dark and then it’s mourning and then it’s dark?

Will my body make it out?
Will I drown before the sun comes up to dry my wounds?

You were almost biblical:
A guide, a guardian, a saviour
Shining, with the bright light of hope
Set deep in your eyes
Flying off your tongue
Anchored in your hands.

You were an extension of myself
Or rather, I was an extension of you.
You gave me your eyes, your warmth, your whimsy
I gave you my love, my trust, my devotion
With my tiny hand.

You did not have an easy life
But your spirit was unconquerable
And now that your time has come
And my eyes are all but desiccated
All I will say is this:
These words were born of pain and pen
You were one.
You were all.
You will never be again.

Gynaecomastia: Enlargement of a man’s breast, usually due to hormone imbalance or hormone therapy.

When I was thirteen and first arrived on campus,
you two helped me gain attention during football
preseason. Bigger areolas topped by little
chocolate hershey kisses dripped with sweat
as mahogany mole hills tussled with Job Leva.

In the weight room, dark knots extended to boughs
above the bench, but below the rusted bar. Crevices
or black hairs of thread covered the ski slopes
groomed after every shower in the locker rooms,
dormitory lavatories, under bridges, in open quarries.

If bra fillings got grades you two black minions in my
Underground storage closet would be a solid “B”.
Potentially a “B+” when I was younger. Now that
I am older, my melons are still here. Maybe cause
I climb trees on the backs of corn husk leaves or

chief cheesesteaks from Al’s on 7th street. My roommate,
Miles, was amazed and shocked when he saw you two
just recently. His eyes bulged in disbelief, “Damn Will, I
Aint know you had chi-chi’s, TITS, Tay-tas, Twin Peaks
that grow by the week. The internal rivalry of your bodies

Twin cities–Minne and Paul. I ain’t know you had two
midgets wrestling in your front pockets. How do you see
over them two oblong CoCo puffs? Do you look around them
Or is your cleavage enough to see straight through?
Did boys laugh at you in the football locker-rooms too?”

Unhooked bait in the name of closure, sat… Just a Skeletor.
Funnily enough, I saw through the bluff.
Suddenly, if it was never clearer before…
“Real eyes, recognize real lies.”
On the flip side…
“Real cries, expose real tithes.”
In the power of boundaries, one will inadvertently…
Succumb to entitled aggressed behaviors.
That only dumb down their words.
When the manipulative measures have run its course…
Emotionally guard yourself. .

Rotting away I wait,
Glazed attempts to reap resolution.
Walk away to ensure you stay,
Abuse the allure of my elusion.

It’s not as simple as “self-sabotage.”
My affinity to total annihilation.
I’ve selected your burial plot
Without any chance of cremation.

No chance you leave this world,
Your ashes inert in an ocean.
You’ll forever be preserved,
Under six feet of devotion.

Why don’t I just take up knitting?
Weave yarn instead of dependence,
Who the hell am I kidding?
These hands have only ever woven malevolence.

I must look plenty pitiful,
Nodding at my lethality like an old friend.
They all start to say I’m fixable,
But they’ve never really seen the end.

One.
The Gods promised to make me holy before wrapping their fingers around my pretty little throat.
They devoured my
heart
like the ripest orange, grinning as red dripped down their chins, and I never felt more
alive.
So I proffered my lungs, my liver, watching their greedy mouths tear through my supple
flesh. I begged them to take more,
but they did not like the taste of my pulp and peel.
I crumpled
to my feet as they left me
gutted and bruised.

Two.
They say there’s an orchard in Athens filled with golden apples, granting immortality and
boundless love to those who eat one. I dragged myself to my small fishing boat, but it shattered
against the first swell, and I washed back up on Troy’s shore
empty
empty.
and alone.
I tried filling the gaping holes with the sweetest fruit I could find, but it was not enough –
I cried, begging; please plant a seed,
it doesn’t have to be golden.
Honeydew
Elderberry
Lemon
even Pomegranates will do
So I can at least pretend that there is something left of me.

Three.
I can’t go home anymore. It makes Mama cry. She said I am like a ghost who has forgotten how
to pass through walls. “Little Ganymede, why did you let them take your heart?”
Oh mother – have you not seen me?
I am a dumb animal with liquid brown eyes.
A cord of rope dangles from my neck, and I gaze at the sky
wanting, craving, like all boys do.
Dancing in fields sweetened by wildflowers, grass tickling my ankles –
I dare to dream.
At the edge of my vision, the forest looms.
Wolves slink between the thickets, white teeth grinning.
But I turn to face the sun instead and wait for someone to tug me along.

Zero.
I am twelve years old. Mama’s cooking wafts through the open cottage windows,
smelling of something sweet and tangy. I can hear her putter around the kitchen, scraping clay
bowls while humming over a bubbling stew.
Outside, I splay across a warm rock, chewing on a piece of wheat while our flock of
sheep bleat lazily. Feeling sun drunk and drowsy, I close my eyes, soaking in the life around me.
The hum of cicadas, the gentle breeze tugging through the grass.
I am surrounded by it.
A sudden shiver runs across my spine. I peak one eye open, spotting a large eagle soaring
just below the clouds. It drifts on unseen currents, flying lower and lower.
I sit up on my forearms, blond hair tickling past my cheeks. I track the bird, making sure
it doesn’t dive for the lambs. But it doesn’t even spare a glance towards them, instead circling
around me.
Once, twice.
I grin.
The Gods are watching me.

Shovel cracks into dirt once again.
The force,
ripping callouses open.
There’s blood on my hands
at least it’s mine.

Six feet after six feet down,
maybe another six to go.
I’m not sure how far
is far enough,
to get me away
from this thing.
All I know is what I’ve known for years;
bury it deeper.

Shoulders ache, head aches, I ache.
The exhaustion is so intense it might kill me.
But I’ve said that before, and it hasn’t yet.
Just a few more feet I tell myself.

Shovel cracks into dirt one last time,
it snaps
and breaks in two.
I finally snap.
Everything is breaking down
and after so many life times so am I.

I cry,
I sob,
I swear,
I scream,
Until I give up.

Come morning
everyone will see the thing
I’ve tried to hide
I’ve tried to bury.
And I don’t care.

I’m tired
and if i spend another moment
trying to hide
I’ll never leave this grave
I’ve unwittingly dug for myself.

LEO SUN: a poppy seed lays in soil for fifty years, unbothered, and continues to grow, just like how I don’t need sunshine and water to validate me, but it helps, except I am the sun, I am the water, I will do what I need to do for survival, loyal to my family, loyal to myself, owning my roots, and this town, kudzu grows four feet every night under the moon, you won’t notice the ivy, but it will notice you, fires ablaze, lavender haze, heat remembers the space that was burned, I will always remember my mother coming to me with her problems, and now I don’t talk to her, forest fire, burnt out gifted child, ashes to phoenix, I will arise, not because you asked nice, but because I am incandescent, chandelier daughter, garden lion, Babylon lover, prideful forgiver,

AQUARIUS MOON: opals are rain made into solid, gemstone heart, fool’s gold brain, my chronic pain is the worst roommate, always hurting for others, always hurting for myself, tattoos and tarot, individualistic sorrow, water bringer, nighttime crier, waiting for tears to be worth something more, sapphire, tanzanite, aquamarine, suppressing your emotions leads to loss of memory, my childhood an opal necklace stolen by my mother, I hate you for making me caretaker, do not take credit for my accomplishments, or my brother, these feelings aren’t treasure incarnate, floodgates waiting to be opened, water sign mistaken, the fire inside grows with the wind, blow that funeral home down,

SCORPIO RISING: my ghosts are always in the wrong place, thought I left them buried, everything secret, everything a pinky promise, oath taker to my mistakes, call me mystery villain, psychic victim, these visions of ruin haunt my daydreams, my cat nuzzles me for attention, her whisker falls off, this is supposed to be good luck, four leaf clover, growing under a ladder, a rabbit’s foot broke a mirror, seven more years, shipwrecked, thirteen death threats, fourteen to twenty-three, disorder made concrete, cracked in the middle, realizing all my skinny idols weren’t real, photoshopped bones, sticks and stones, I dream of snakes and falling teeth, now I like my stretch marks, lightning bolt beauty, and the beast, but they both live inside of me.

I see the past in the present
Your face stands out so clearly
Vividly
Dark complexion, a chiaroscuro against so many white
I see you
Your family
Happy
The beach
A refuge for so many
Cares
Worries
Disappear
The wind picks up
The roar of the sea grows louder
Azure sky replaced by the grey, blue, and pink of impending twilight
You sweep your daughter into your arms
Your son runs after his mother
This human act
Replicated throughout the world
Throughout time
Culture
Language
Race
Religion
Makes no difference
We yearn for the same things

Yet hate
Taught
Perpetuated
Replicated throughout the world
Throughout time
Learned ignorance
Convincing the masses that differences should scare us
Culture
Language
Race
Religion
Manipulating us
Fright obscuring reason
Unleashing our animalistic nature
Anger
Fear
Hate
Powerful motivators
Wielded by rulers to control the ruled
To inspire violence
To maintain power
To profit
Strawmen change
Tactics endure
Dividing and conquering the exploited
Isolated
Solidarity gone
How powerless groups become
One by one
Realization
Always too little
Always late

You leave
I stay
Thinking
Lessons forgotten
Lessons ignored
The muted cries of the past fall on willfully deaf ears
Red hats
Red armbands

Anger
Fear
Hate
A perpetual battlecry woven into the fabric
Authentically unoriginal
Yet it works
The same old tricks
The exploiter eternally convincing
The exploited eternally naive
Manufacturing consent
To eradicate neighbors
Profit over people
Hate over reason
Fool me once
Shame on me
Fool me for eternity
Shame on thee

Yet indifference
Enduring
Time after time
Shame
A sensation no longer felt
Payout
Always too great
Consequences
Yet again
Arriving late
Lie and cheat
Steal and kill
Business as usual
Unless it happens to you
Manipulation
Your weapon of choice
Cold

Conniving
Coordinated
But you know the secret
Fools are ever so trusting
How truly easy it is to train the ignorant
The uninformed
The shallow of soul
Morals forgotten
Ignored
Replaced
Pavlov’s dog
Feasting on lies
While piercing rings
Toll on
And on

Conditioned
Salivating
Rabid
An empty vessel to be commanded
Used and discarded
After the violence
Empathy
Our spark of life
Smothered into silence
Eyes seeing, yet the mind not truly grasping
A husk of a human
Yapping for its master
Blame
Excuses
It makes no difference now
A song on repeat
Another generation lost
Innumerable and forgotten
Tale as old as time
Continues
Marching
On
And on

Strong gusts
Dark clouds
Tide turns
Water churns
Flash
Crack
The Thud
Thud
Of rain upon sand
Beats on
And on
Your footprints fade
Another memory of this world
Lost
Forgotten
Will you survive what is to come?
Will I?
The end is written
For those who look
Tear out the page
Change the book

We keep fighting about nothing,
then sitting in silence that feels louder than words.
It’s like we’re caught in a song that won’t move forward,
just the same verse, the same note,
again and again.

You said, “You never listen.”
I wanted to say, “I do, I just don’t always know how.”
But the words never came out right.

I think about how it used to be
when your laugh was my favourite chorus,
when your hand in mine was enough to quiet everything else.
Back then, we were in tune.
Now we sound like two instruments
playing in different rooms.

But I don’t want to give up on this.
I don’t want love to be a solo.
I want harmony, even if it’s imperfect.

Maybe if we slow down,
listen softer,
forgive quicker
we can find the music again.

Not a perfect song.
Just ours.