Wednesday, February 2, 2011

blood II

blood II (with gratitude for the inspiration)

one year ago, february 21st 2am
one week after a valentine's day of mylar balloons and roses, real and fake
and chocolate i would never eat:
the last time i made love
the first time i made love without knowing it
though i know you asked if it was ok
the rest was black out

i'd taken a sleeping pill and one xanax
left over from my surgery less than a month before
still suffering ptsd
when the fight started i knew i had to check out fast
didn't want to stress my newly bound eye

you were rocking on the floor and speaking in tongues
about being good
and the dark thing behind me
and suddenly i didn't know you at all
though i'd been with you five months.

since then well i'm better
you are gone and i haven't opened the medicine chest
the pills are expired i don't need them
i want to remember everything
every single moment
feel pain and cry and bleed
my eye's healed as well as it will ever be

but when my mother died the blood poured for two weeks straight
then stopped as if for good
as if to match hers
and now you'd think i'd stop
too, searching for this thing i want
but i refuse to stop
i am not going to stop
loving extravagantly
open-heartedly, dazzlingly
but not blindly--
with a bitter little pill
dissolving under my tongue--
and then maybe my blood will come back

i'm not dead after all


  1. this really hit home. thank you thank you!

  2. I am inspired by your capacity to love.