#20lines

i remember the day a cross was burned on my lawn. hot, in stark opposition to the decaying gum spelling A N G E on the concrete of the street. the mark still singes reminding me of every cop that followed me home, every midnight black i was called, every wayward glance and atmospheric shift when i entered. 

i remember the day a chaldean boy called me shanaenae and shaquana as i walked to the back of the bus thinking i would find safety from the policing eyes of those at the front. worried that a wayward life would turn into a spotlight on my teenage shenanigans. 

the first time i touched the ocean the salty cool left my nervous system confused. it felt much different that the lakes and rivers i had been used to. the buoyancy lifted my feet, gave me levity almost drowning me in my sorrows. 

i remember the first time someone believe in me. donating dollars for me to pursure a personal dream. i was left feeling guilty that i didn’t make it all the way through (embarrassed) remembering that a wave of heat rises through my spine. reminding every vertebrae that I AM HERE. i have lived. i have lost. but not i will live again. what does the hope of the future feel like? a spark between teeth? a rush of air across the clavicle. 

i remember the first time i felt like i took advantage of someone. my mind made connections, telling me i owed the world more for my existence. i owed the world constant contrition and sadness. 

where do i  have to look to find parts of myself? on a book shelf? behind a sliding door? on a coffee table? in the deepest corners of a basement? in the silverware drawer? inside a bag inside luggage in the corner of my closet? underneath the leaf sitting on the roof of my car? between the words on page 89 of a book i’m reading?

when mastication sounds like the moment i push down on an air pump to fill my bike’s tire that’s when truth has found its home in my body.

the uncomfortable movements have become comforting sighs primed to be a cushion in sadness and anger’s wake. 

they no longer feel like steel frictioning past steel, fighting for their space, space that has been promised but had disappeared since the never ending war began. where is compassion directed when everyone feels like an enemy but i also want to hurt no one?

i came upon a path and there is only one way forward but i am afraid to take it alone. how did i get here? who told me i was ready and that that ready meant alone? abundance means lots but do we want abundance under capitalism? lots of monopolies? lots of money? lots of people without their basic needs met?

facetiousness won’t fix any of it but it will allow for contradictions to be exposed. devil’s advocate you say? i didn’t think the dvil would talk so plaining about the truths of the day. the devil is friends with the spin doctor. let’s make the facade gold and glitter, while the second floor is caving in.

a squirrel, nut in tow, squares off against me. “i must be in ann arbor,” i think because this behavior is only seen there. i move to my left, they mirror me. i move to my right, again they mirror. i keep moving to the right until we make a huge circle, still starting at each other. 

the moment you claimed the space as yours it lost all its magic. bioluminescence gone because it answers to you. how is something ever changing not their own? i look at the baby’s breath blue and stark red, you move like melville searching the high seas for moby thrashing like a dick believing he owes you his life. no matter what his faults, errors, egregious mistakes, he owes you nothing. not even his existence. so tell me, how does the land that struggles to breathe yours? how does your white picket fence, elevated platform and turf change who it belongs to? you plant in my back so i remember. watch joyfully as chrysanthemums bloom. wonder why i thought anything different would happen. wait, let’s see if these ones are perennials. scream maniacally when i scratch at myself asking “do you love yourself if you try and remove the most beautiful part?” 

and i stop. then dig with more fervor remembering most animals/wolves will remove a limb when stuck to maintain life. 

how did this get here?

how did i sleep through this?

are the scars worth it?

when is pain ever worth it?

at least i’m doing it to myself, i said to me. 

i am worried about being alone. love is a mystical thing like morning glories. my mother’s father can’t be like my dad because my mother maintains friendships. what am i chasing that is leaving me feeling so alone/empty?

open to the sun. show the world the most precious inner parts of yourself. be exposed to the world throwing all care to the wind. knowing the wind will help you live on, the smallest part of you will live on in some form.

without fear, you just exist staking claim in who you are. 

hibiscus syriacus. this might be a season alone. 

fire ignites something always.

revenge, revenge, revenge. is this what i am receiving?

labels are the bane of my existence.  

fish and their sensorimotor communication is to dream of. self identifying is power. more labels is not inherently revolutionary. in a world dominated by language, there may be no other way to think of it. compartmentalization helps society go ‘round. 

am i going to ever publish? we’ll see. it’s a symptom of my fear. i’ll resubmit to black warrior review. i missed my green mountain review opportunity. a day of journal research is up next. rust belt too.

new labels can be fear inducing. the whole world doesn’t need to know and also talking about it is helpful.