Monster

It’s cold in my fingertips,

then burning all over,

like electrifying radiation

and I can’t control it and

it’s racing through my veins like

water under bridges and

it’s lit in my chest like spark plugs sparked

and the monster isn’t solid and it’s

moving through my bones and

it’s smiling that smile that makes my body

calm.

And it plucks out my eyes and puts in its own

and I am no longer in control of myself.

No longer my choices.

I’m possessed by the demon he created there

and the alcohol I use to quell it.

In Stardust

Before I met you,

I was a bird. And my wings

were strong

and my feet were quick

and my feathers were lustrous and steady.

–

Before I met you,

I was the moon. And my glow

was radiant,

and my core was resolute,

and my crescent was sharp and smooth to the touch.

–

Before I met you,

I was a seed. And my roots

were rugged

and my stems were tenacious

and my leaves were monumentally green and growing.

–

But you weren’t here to feed me,

to water my soil or please me.

I didn’t realize I was kindling,

meat stacked on bone,

a body to own, to torture and

contain and enslave.

–

And when you left,

I became a drop in the ocean,

another tear cried,

another storm waged,

another tidal wave erupted,

another spritz of salty mist in the air.

–

And after,

I sewed together

mist and glow and root and feather

and twisted it in bloody muscle,

tied it in smoke and flames,

and cased it all in a taut skin of mica,

more powerful than you could have ever imagined.

–

I felt what it was like to breathe again.

Set the air on fire again.

–

I am a bird, a phoenix rising,

I am a tree, a willow singing.

I am the moon, reborn in blood,

in stardust everlasting.

–

I was. I am. I will be.

Everlasting.