every breath swollen with the doing of her dreams until her whole life was nothing but aspiration.
give your daughters names that begin with vowels, names that start softly, a window cracked open, a palm unfilled, sighable after too long days, but give your daughters names that end in consonants, names that demand completion, that cannot be trailed off into dismissal, reminding others they are strong, they are unwavering, they are a constant.
the breathless breadth of that very first “YES” towards what seems impossibly best
another asks “how many times have you been in love?”
how we all seem to answer “how many times have you truly felt your love returned?” instead
mind as a hummingbird,
heart as the flower.
purge yourself of any and all human toxicity
and watch yourself transform.
Phase 0: single sub-therapeutic doses are given to a small number of subjects to gather preliminary data on the agent’s poemcodynamics (what the poem does to the body) and poemcokinetics (what the body does to the poem).
Phase 1: researchers test an experimental poem (“treatment”) in a small group of people for the first time to evaluate its safety/wordweight, determine a safe dosage range (“level of publicity”), and identify side effects (see: inability to form new memories).
Phase 2: the experimental treatment is given to a larger group of people to see if it is effective, properly wordsmithed, and to further evaluate its safety.
Phase 3: the treatment is finally released to large groups of people
to confirm its effectiveness, correlate it to dangerous behaviors (see: consistent refusals of reality), compare it to commonly used treatments (various, situationally dependent), and collect information that will allow it to be used safely.
Phase 4: postmarketing studies delineate additional information, including the treatment’s risks, benefits, and optimal use.
life birthed me sickly and afflicted,
re(e(value)ate)ing my core
in a relentless hunt for my cure.
there are two things about which you must know:
the events of Saturday, December 8th, 2012,
and a girl named Mallory.
do all those things that are pulling on your heart and life will sound like a song again and you will know the words.
the moment you realize it is poison
i bet she cackles,
grossly, dripping with lack of intelligence;
i bet she is unnecessarily cruel, brash,
turning herself into a sideshow under the ‘entertain me’ threat
of your raised eyebrow, your dismissive wave.
i bet you love how easily she fits herself beneath you,
below you where she belongs - compartmentalizing herself at your feet
into all the places you could never quite shove me.
you forget that i am a human being after you,
i was a human being before you,
and that the human being i turned into under you
is someone that i had never known.