I’ve been crying too much.
Someone (not me)
Took an ax to the dam.
Sometimes, I look in the
Mirror
Expecting rivulets to be
Etched into the planes of
My face
Canyons layered through
Blood and bone
I’d rather look like
A natural disaster
Than a human
One.

When I saw the world
Like the first time I opened my eyes
When my hands knew a language
That my mouth did not
And I clung to handfuls of yellow
As my whole being pitched and rolled
Like a ship through storm
As I clung to handfuls of
Myself
That slipped through my fingers
Like they were never really
There
I wondered if afterward
I would be able to
Scrape myself
Off the floor.