No one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
Sofia used pigeon blood on her wedding night.
next day, over the phone, she told me
how her husband smiled when he saw the sheets.
Some nights I hear in her room screaming
We play Surah Al-Baqarah to drown her out
Anything that comes from her mouth sounds like sex
Our mother has banned her from saying God’s name.
We may be just two different clocks, that do not tock in unison.
Here and now – I love you, for this moment, you have my heart. But you are not entitled to my future – you have no ownership of my past.
And it wasn’t my choice to love you but it was mine to leave. I don’t think the moon ever meant to be a satellite, kept in loving orbit, locked in hopeless inertia, destined to repeat the same pattern over and over – to meet in eclipse with the sun – only when the numbers allowed
The thing about having
an alcoholic parent
is an alcoholic parent
does not exist.
who could not stay sober
long enough to raise their kids
every time you
tell your daughter
you yell at her
out of love
you teach her to confuse
anger with kindness
which seems like a good idea
till she grows up to
trust men who hurt her
cause they look so much
- to fathers with daughters
emptying out of my mother’s belly
was my first act of disappearance
learning to shrink for a family
who likes their daughters invisible
was the second
the art of being empty
believe them when they say
you are nothing
repeat it to yourself
like a wish
i am nothing
i am nothing
i am nothing
the only reason you know
you’re still alive is from the
heaving of your chest
- the art of being empty
All this time
I drank you like the cure when maybe
you were the poison.
But my heart is an old house
(the kind my mother
grew up in)
hell to heat and cool
and faulty in the wiring
and though it’s nice to look at
I have no business
inviting lovers in.
He used to love me, and now he’s just a stranger who happens to know all my secrets.
Before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.
she's wondering how many women are walking around this world
feeling the tingling of their amputated wings
remembering what it was to fly to sing
How many wars will it take us to learn that only the dead return?
When it came to love, she enjoyed the thrill of the search, but seldom stopped to check whether happiness was keeping up.
I am hopelessly in love with a memory. An echo from another time, another place.
I write because you exist.
Labels: 2017, Books, list, Poem, Quotes, Series, write