Finding The Light

I wanted something to fill the space.

Will you listen to the birds with me?

In the morning they sing their song

Like a secret message I can’t decode

But maybe I can

I wanted a second opinion anyway

Or just for someone to sit

Next to me

And listen

and say, “that’s a nice sound”

I’m tired of my own thoughts

I’m tired of being strong

I want to crumple into arms of safety

I’m tired of keeping up this semblance

Of happiness

I want to lie down

With my cheek pressed against the earth

And let my heavy body become

An offering

To fertile the soil

There are good things that can grow from rot

Sometimes this feels like the best I can do

The most

I have to offer

And at least

At least

I am always

a girl

still a girl in my bones

and limbs

in my teeth and skin

in the violent way that I am

with myself

girlhood is like a noose

around my neck

it sinks it’s teeth

into my flesh

when pain grows talons

and scratches and

claws it way out

of throats and mouths

decimating everything

in its path

costumed by

long necks and

slender wrists

knobby knees

and tender fists

lips curled

around a shriek

sharp

and shrill

women grieve

in New Orleans are for

romanticizing life

the twitch

of the grass as

a gentle breeze

momentarily lifts the blanket

of humidity enveloping me

like

an embrace

a boy with

gangly limbs sits solitary

in a chair pulled under

an oak tree where

he does his best thinking

a symphony of cicadas

swells and

scores an evening stroll down

Bayou St. John as

an almost full moon hangs

heavy over the water

I think

to sink my teeth

into her skin and let

the juices run

down my chin

smearing swaths of

pink orange across my cheek

the sky ripe

like

a peach

I taste it sweet sticky

on my lips and the

tips of my fingers

long after the heat fades

and these feet cave

and carry me

far and

farther