how
does the heart
still somehow
continue its breaking

all this time later
there are still cracks that
relinquish their light
up and out
into the dark sky

will I ever know how deep they go?
chasms
to the core of me, deeper
that shudder open
when I find
a reminder

some days it feels more like
there are lines cast
down into the rivers
that run as deep as rivers can run

and the hooks are snagged
and dragging
forever

I remind myself
that it is okay
to allow the tears to come.
they pushpull at the edges,
but I don’t need to fight off that pain
though
it threatened to
obliterate me
drown me in my own love,
black and torpid,
washed down dirty alleyways and pooled in dim caves
I rained in the all the wrong places

some days it feels more like this
a steady ache
at the base of my throat
and its veins so strong pulse
still bleeding after all this time
is it still open
or is it phantom pain
reminding me that healing is not linear
even as I say the words
reminding me that this language
does not resolve -
speaking protective spells
to try
and weather the storms
as they hit
over
and over

is it phantom pain
reminding me that you will always be a spectre
in my periphery
I am trying
to release
​this hauntology

All the creatures are out tonight
The forest swoons and slips in and out of real
Light blues at the periphery
Things squeal
Or whistle
The forest lurches with each observation
In the dark
Leaves and branches
Are cracking
Crushed
Brushed
By these
Beings

They are closer tonight
The moon is dark
They know when I am listening close
And stay quiet mostly
Layers
Of life
They climb
And crawl
And carefully walk
Food
Shelter
Water

Life is moving in the forest shadowly
They have found the outcast flesh
They are speaking to each other,
these people,
in sounds I do not understand
I am listening and feel the noises move through me
tickling my sense edge
The sounds reach the tiny hairs on my neck before they enter my ears
I can feel you there

All around
Closer than before
Talking -
but silent now that I am listening close.
The air sits cool and moist against my skin.
​I am an impatient listener

There is phosphorescence
on the water tonight
as I stand
half in the waves
under the full moon
blue
each heartbreak rolls
and gathers itself up,
before falling,
washing
around
my ankles.


The breeze makes
the ocean
shimmer
under the moon.


I am done
now
my dear
once
you were -


I lift my feet
sink each step in
lapped by the tide
glowing in moments
blue
bright
twinkling,
pushpulling,
heartbreak.


If this
is all
well, old friend
I choose not to
I am done
settling -
I have things
to attend to
and I am whole
already.


Do not meagre me.
Let it be done,
or
really be here.


Tonight
I felt the softest
breaking
of my heart
yet.
So gentle
I almost missed it


As I sat in the dark
shadow of the hill
on that rock.
And when I walked back
across the creek mouth,
(where I had sent
7 tiny prayers in
7 paper boats
out to sea
in the light of the day),
when I walked back
along the shoreline,
the moon rose again,
over the hilltop this time,
and there it was -
in the sharpest soft light -
the shape of me


I realized
I am done.
No more waiting,
or yearning
for changes I vaguely hoped could be.
No more dancing with broken feet
around the truth.
I will not leave this door open
for you -
either walk away
or walk through.

--- 
​
(Where you shut your soul
I’ve walked before ~)


And the melodies stay the same,
I have been singing
these sounds
always