With Eyes of Flame

i’m always afraid of ruining things

by saying them

out loud or in my head

the dock is falling apart

but we are waiting for a ship

that promised to come home

it’s a revival but no one knows

what we’re bringing back

we’re on our last leg

we’re closing up shop forever

we’re throwing the baby out

with the bath water

the last petal always lands on

loves me not

by definition of uninterrupted time

or no matter what

the other word for forever

you could say the bridge is always

coming apart when i’m on it

or that i step in front of bullets

that were never meant for me

that someone’s always pulling the ladder up

behind them when i’ve agreed to go last

i used to think it must be beautiful

to be naive

of the damage you cause

i’m always holding my phone

at weird angles

trying to shazam the wind

or river rushing by

the way grief always comes

crawling back inside

the way you’re always indiscriminately

angry with me

for this things i do or am about to

things i did in dreams and in a vacuum

always unringing the church bells

and jumping the gun

we’re always spitting in our hands

to make a deal

or make amends

you’re always on my mind when i blow out

birthday candles and when i consider

the currency of love

i’m always praying in the church

of missing you

the lights on the dash lit up like christmas

tiny microcosms without the festivities

always checking your eyes

for signs of life

always talking during my favorite part

of the movie

a day late and a dollar short

always losing it in the parking lot

when the music comes back on

always dragging the bedroom for bodies

the way i thought you’d always be there

why i always draw the nine of swords

asking my father why he always

let the fish go

the time machine always turning back

into a pumpkin

do we cry when we couldn’t hold on?

or because we always knew

we’d never be able to

why you always gotta make it about us?

it’s always sunny where you are

i’m always on my way but never there

something else always

glittering in the distance

when i want your attention

i always feel like the band on the titanic

i’m singing my letters love always

i’m signing off forever

thank you for always coming through

with a machete

when the wound is almost healed

to make sure it’s mortal

i was always under the impression

you’d give up on me

i remember you saying

“you are always welcome here” & “the door is

always open”

and then never speaking to me again

the shore always just out of reach

i always want to leave you voicemails

wondering what’s real

mommy fortuna always able

to spot the difference

there will be tears

there will always be tears

why are you always saying that to me

why are you always telling me

not to get hysterical

you told me to grow a set of eyes

in the back of my head

i never was able to bring that to fruition

they grew in ways that made me see

the way she speaks in i told you so’s

how she always avoids asking me

how i’ve been

we’re always taking turns

blaming each other

i thought you wanted life like a rocky movie

i’m always fighting the final boss

always talking about things

in the past tense

always wondered what that would look like

under an x ray

always disassociating in public

rubbing table lamps in target

under the halogen bulbs

rubbing my hands raw

on every teapot in the antique store

that reminds me of aladdin

i always thought urza

breaking into phyrexia to steal xantcha’s heart

was the perfect love story

when we pry your chest open

with the jaws of life to reveal

the same purple black explosion

as when i jam my eyes closed

on nights i open up like a crater

always running from the fight

when the knives come out

running your finger along the bleached bone

of my jaw just before removing my teeth

we cook from the same pantry

but the meal made with love

tastes different

the mechanic under the hood always

saying “see there’s your problem”

taking a hammer to the magic 8 ball

after everything shakes out

i always get the feeling you’re through with me

that my usefulness is almost dried up

always pretending not to notice

when i’m inconsolable

but says she’s an empath

the crossword puzzzle

always wants to know the french word

for drowning

we’re dropping like flies

because we don’t talk about

the things that kill us

can i tell you a secret

life is full of hard pills to swallow

i’m always taking my medicine

always wanted to be buried

on the spot where i heard you say it

i always wanted to write a poem about

the never ending story

that made you feel like you

were in the mud pulling too

the end is always your favorite part

have you read the paper this morning?

the mood ring always black

you’re always making that face

when i decide to breathe

or when i take the lions share

of the suffering

i’m always telling jenny

that i know what love is

i’m always mistaken

i thought i saw the yellow portals

opening in my peripheral

i thought i heard you say

on your left

Natasha Trethewey, from Thrall: Poems; “Torna Atrás”