HOME | DD

Description
i find my fingertips shaking
on a keyboard, under
a smudged screen
where facebook friends
talk about finding themselves.
i find my solar plexus, press
with thumb knuckle, confirm
a presence. bloodhum, skin
of sweat and cellophane, too tight
to contain me. i shake
with nothing to say.

how do you define a self? how
do to grasp that center, resist
when your nails itch
to break the boundaries
of your body?
i try to speak but keep crouching
inside metaphors.
i want contact but not
to be the type who wants.
someone to find
the core i cannot.

is desperation an illness.
what if it is quiet.
what if it grows
alongside, knotted
to your personality. if lights
shatter in your eyes
and your heart has nothing
to cover it. if there is not enough oxygen
in the room or the world
to fill you.

my psychiatrist once asked
is this true or is it something
you believe. as if the two
could be separated. as if
the world you perceive
is not the world
you must live in. when he asked
if this was an attempt
at control, i told him:
i just wanted
to destroy something.

the next time he asked
how i was, i lied
and said fine
because i liked him
and was afraid to scare him
and because this is the reality
i know.

at night, i dream myself filling with water
the taste of salt and seaweed.
someone holds me under
or i hold myself under
and i can't

tell the difference

Description
i find my fingertips shaking
on a keyboard, under
a smudged screen
where facebook friends
talk about finding themselves.
i find my solar plexus, press
with thumb knuckle, confirm
a presence. bloodhum, skin
of sweat and cellophane, too tight
to contain me. i shake
with nothing to say.

how do you define a self? how
do to grasp that center, resist
when your nails itch
to break the boundaries
of your body?
i try to speak but keep crouching
inside metaphors.
i want contact but not
to be the type who wants.
someone to find
the core i cannot.

is desperation an illness.
what if it is quiet.
what if it grows
alongside, knotted
to your personality. if lights
shatter in your eyes
and your heart has nothing
to cover it. if there is not enough oxygen
in the room or the world
to fill you.

my psychiatrist once asked
is this true or is it something
you believe. as if the two
could be separated. as if
the world you perceive
is not the world
you must live in. when he asked
if this was an attempt
at control, i told him:
i just wanted
to destroy something.

the next time he asked
how i was, i lied
and said fine
because i liked him
and was afraid to scare him
and because this is the reality
i know.

at night, i dream myself filling with water
the taste of salt and seaweed.
someone holds me under
or i hold myself under
and i can't

tell the difference