My God You look nice tonight Tell me how does it feel to see your violence on this floor? You know it’s me. It’s um the breaking It’s you tower You know I think I want to see you God, on this floor, say you look nice tonight Say I’ve been cursing this body for the past six years say tower Heavy brick I can’t breathe anymore There’s a mantra that states To avoid criticism one must say nothing do nothing be nothing In essence, for a woman to obtain a perfection. They must say nothing We must do nothing be nothing You know I wonder if that’s why people consider you perfect, God, display you on all these church windows say oh, holy ghost I give it all to you. I give it all back this burden of humanity. I’m praying it all away You know I wonder what you thought seeing me on this floor, God. all body bruised knees all broken Say you look nice tonight Say, but you still aren’t perfect. You know you still exist They’re still mountains colliding in that chest of yours you cannot be perfect with all that Chaos all that humanity And I stand in dim church windows now, I look to God My God you look nice tonight. I pray if you were to shatter if you were spread out on this floor would I see you body bruised knees all broken Would you look at me? Say, my daughter how human you look Or would I feel brick? Feel concrete say my God. Do you still remember human do you remember giving us hands? Do you remember? How it feels to wake up to the first autumn sunrise and not be able to get out of bed? That tower too heavy and chest making breathing laborous Do you remember how us humans we look to false idols we build towers inside of us for them We build towers for you Do you remember? anxiety Or depression or eating and obsessive-compulsive disorders do they weigh on you like brick, feel like shattering You know I can hear how you crack My mother called me last October And I didn’t answer because you know I’m in college And I’m too busy and I’m either working or in class or doing a hundred other million things I can’t make time for my own mother and it’s mainly because she called me earlier that week and asked if I was eating enough and Why I hadn’t been home in months And ended with me asking can I not do anything right, Ma? But when I when I listen to her voicemail, I hear my mother’s voice it cracks And she says my daughter My blooming peony, my Texas summer night, my crock and concrete our drunken laughter when I said you weren’t perfect I didn’t mean you had to stop all movement you see this earth was created with moving plates Just as you are created with moving plates. You are never to stop from building never stop from being torn down and never stop from loving I love you I miss you Oh, we all miss you Please come home soon


1 Comment

Light at the Bottom of the Lake · November 27, 2016 at 6:41 pm

Absolutely amazing.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *