Wounded

The chasm
the gap

the big gaping hole that lies 

somewhere in the middle of my chest

and our togetherness.

It bleeds

The stuffed cotton wool

and sutures, give way

to the gash

that neither time would heal

nor the years caress.

45 minutes

 

Hatred doesn’t feel good in the body

At 3am, it feels like the worst enemy

I tried squeezing it out of my system

gave it a thought massage

It still felt like venom

I had gifted myself.

 

Hatred doesn’t feel good in the body

At 3:15am it feels like brown sludge

Of karmic debris from many births

Asking me to finally learn 

that the one that I hate

is here to teach me love

for myself.

 

Hatred doesn’t feel good in the body

At 3:25am it sits on every out breath

Refusing to leave till I sit with it

like a co-passenger 

Stinky, smelly, noisy, chatty

choosing this choicelessness

for the ride home 

to myself.

 

Hatred doesn’t feel good in the body

At 3:40am it turns to grief

that comes out through the eyes

Lungs waiting

for the brown sludge

to turn to water

to expunge

what doesn’t belong here

inside the self.

 

Hatred turned to grief

in 45minutes

this morning

And then it

Turned to air.

Default

You were always my default.

The holder of all my expectations

the ones that never got fulfilled.

All my hopes

that pessimism ate for lunch.

A personful of my love

That life's truck rode over.

The sum total of all my dreams

that these sleepless eyes could not see.

You were my life

that took my life apart.