Songs of Mourning                                                                      
 
It’s claustrophobic in the darkness
Behind my eyes.
Free floating in space
That is seamless with sadness.
How much death must we witness?
Until we break?
Until I, myself, cannot breathe?
 
In a dark room with no walls—
Endless haunting scraps of memories.
I hit a mental block when I try to put all my thoughts together.
But my emotions come together effortlessly—
Like a pitch-black shore.
Layer after layer, never-ending collapse
Of self upon self,
Other upon other,
Until their death is a little bit of mine too.
Pieces, jagged, dangling pieces,
Hang like wind chimes
To songs of mourning.
Fragments of who I was with them
Scattered in the space around me.
 
Even if I wanted to bring them back to life—
Glue and paste would just create holding patterns
Driven by pain.
If I let them leave me,
What will I be left with?
Broken memories?
Pinpricks of realities?
 
Like a splinter wedged in,
Does it need to be removed
because it is no longer a part of a whole?
These remnants of sounds, moments,
Hearts, smiles, aromas, feel like
They don’t belong to me anymore.
Imperfect and scratched in memory.
Like a record with a forever-blip.

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Space                                   

Reflections, in a pool,

I am weightless.

I seek outer space,

and instead find inner peace.

I want to float without

the weight of knowledge.

I let the rain wash over me—

buoyant in a pool

that fluctuates and flutters.

My body sinks

in plain air— en plein air—

but glides in a bath

that is my escape,

my inner cape.

I am almost nearly covered

by this clear fluid.

This crystal palace

where color hovers,

mirrors in a pool.

Finding sanctuary,

I am disappearing.

My knees knock at each ivory-colored

side, open wings

to the floating below.

I see the feathers curl

naturally, when relaxed,

as I hover in a pool.

I see myself, mesmerized by warmth

and fluid embraces.

Laying back, I am cradled,

rocked when my body wants to be.

Still, not-with-standing or

juxta-posing,

but just floating,

until,

I pull the plug.