Assorted Imagery

To all the houses

​

To all the houses I will never return

To all the rooms I will never enter

I miss you

You still live here

In my mind

Behind my eyes

Where I live too

I feel your walls

I touch the floor barefoot

On those carpets that I spent years

Now someone else

Spends their childhood there

To all the people I will never see again

I'm sorry

I'm sorry we ended up where we did

Maybe I'll see you around town

Outside a bar one night

And we'll both keep walking

To all the people I will never sleep with again

I think it's for the best

I think we should see other people

To all the people I loved who are gone

I love you still

I hold you in my heart

And want you to know

I love you

Goodbye

​

​

​

Freezer Lump

​

It's still alive inside me

That sullen lump

Whimpering in my chest

It breathes with me

But steals my breath

To hold for itself 

It rolls over

Pulling me with it

Down into the nest

Of insects and empty cans

But I keep it fed

Every day hoping

It'll grow into something

​

It pulses with heat

Is that warmth real?

Or am I fooling myself?

Into feeling a false presence

The smell of thick sinuses 

Heavy air

Carrying illness

Which I graciously accept

I breathe it in

Not because I want to

But because it's all I know

I'm afraid of losing it

Like a dead pet in the freezer

We clutch the husk

Because it's all that's left 

The only thing left to hold

Will slowly melt in our hands

I don't want to hold you anymore

Because I can't, you're gone

​

​

​

Dad

when my dad brought me to speech therapy

we would wait in this wooden room

the sun would pour through the window onto the table

and warmed my hands and face

i would look over and see my dad’s hands

clasped together

he was praying

eyes closed

i tried to pull his hands apart

not knowing what was wrong 

or why he looked so serious

he held his hands together tightly

my little fingers couldn’t separate 

the unity of them

when he opened his eyes

an expression of discontent came from them

i asked

what are you doing

he just replied

i’m praying

tears welled up in my eyes

i watched a small stream leak 

down his face

through his laugh lines

and weathered skin

***

the next time

he read to me

the little engine that could

the small blue train

with it’s little face

determined 

he was never great at narration

it always felt a little disingenuous 

but this time

i felt he meant it

i felt that same energy

the same one from his prayer

and the warmth of the sun

the gold heat that warmed us both

he taught me 

in that moment

that if i tried 

hard enough

it would be okay

i would be happy

***

a few years later

i realized why he prayed

when i was eight he went to rehab

when i was four he was searching for strength 

to quit

to kick it

and he did

he came back 

with a beard and oaky tan

i was in the other room

sitting in a box

a wall of cardboard with the window cut out

eating apple sauce

with the biggest spoon i could find

the walls of the box would shelter me

from the outside world

a surrogate father

when he walked through that door

a burst of warmth covered me

i couldn’t see him

but i heard his footsteps

and the door open

when i saw him

that golden warmth filled me again