postfinale

what am i without all this water weight?

it’s been slowing me down, keeping me under

and for the first time in months I can consider

what I really want, the fresh greenery

of optimism and ideas springs up in my brain and spine

I am a little bit freer than I was yesterday and I will drink

all of this rainwater happily

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biology

repressed anxiety

takes the most unusual forms during stress.

I spent all of class wincing, jumping

every time the professor wrote on the board

the squeaking chalk said

that she was going to fingernail it

she was going to

every time, I was sure

she was going to scratch it

dear anna XI

I hope that you wake up every day

happy, ready to get up

just because of where you are.

I pray for you to have hope

in things which are not perfect,

that your future failure will be worth the growth.

My desire for you is to be whole joy all through

free to just be.

Panic & Attack at College

trapped in a corner between fault and mistake

my heart beats so hard

and so loud

all sense is obscured in sick fear (blind and deaf)

all that is left is skin (touch.)

In this darkness of thought and sight

I wrap my arms around human anchors (reality breaks)

and quake till the waves stop.

dear anna X

what are you like?

I am too close to see,

your fluid mosaic washes over my memory

 I cannot distinguish between failing and strength

you are so beautiful. All of you is beautiful.

Still delightfully marvelous as in childhood, red-blue

rich in yellow

only growing more lovely with time

I remember you in crayon, water, and glass

my rage always the Frog

to your wise, calm Toad.

i want to go home

[pressure]

i am tiny pieces taped together

so tight, too tight, stress-hugging my knees

and i feel no older than eight,

the same innocent naivety at my centre

the tension pushes me in and pulls me out

so i am all edges and no rest

[collapse]

gator ride through the orchard (easter)

the tractor growled, and we flew down the hill,

twisting, turning through the trees

steering handle spinning as we snuck past the fence

“This is illegal, by the way”

the grandkids are screaming, half fear, half delight

that grandpa would do something so reckless.

mentally, I am careening back across that Arcade highway

the snowplow shatters us again! I snap back to reality

jolting, the grass is high and the road is rubble

the steep hill we are climbing, fast

like the road to Kidepo, soaring over the stony hills

swerving, sliding around in the loose shale

even the dirt matches, it is orange dust

and I am 12 years old again, home and free

after burning season, the grass comes back this green

and the ash leaves charcoal traces all over your white skin.