The stupid part was we let the poison in.
Money, friendships, a living.
And what escape is there from an open cage?
We wished well those who left its service early
but bitterly watched their backs as they went.
We didn’t feel the jealousy just then.
The bad taste in our mouths was the envy to come
when the sweat and the nightmares would take us
make us yearn for the years ill-spent
make us wonder about things not seen
Back then we didn’t suspect
those who left looked back at us
with that same kind of pregnant loathing.
They would feel it sooner than us:
jonesing for that “being part of something”
like the uniform and the sweet, metal smells were lines and hits.
All of us hadn’t realized it then
but those who left
and those who stayed
would dream the same demons
all the same.
I’ve been here before
I shouldn’t care but
I guess I’ll bleed some more
You were the pillow lines on my face
You were the ache in my spine every time I dared to close my eyes
And I can’t erase the tracks left below my lashes
like lanes or roads
whips would lash down on
I tell myself, “Don’t look back.”
But I do
Oh my God, I always do just that!
I am the feathers drifting through your room
I am the splintered chair and your hair standing straight on end
And I am the truth staring straight through you
like I’m dying on your bed
But you knew what your words would do
You are a warm hand in the dark
I am a ghost against your cheek
You are the only star with a spark
I am the only knife that can speak
and my words cut deep
and you’re burnin’ out
and all that either of us have ever been
has been knowing we’re going to ground
for the count
We are the rescue
We are the guard
We are the virtues
we would rather spit out
We’re both hurting badly
We’re both yearning madly
But we can’t jump up out
of a smoking plane
if we’re settled on the falling
because those two ways
obviously aren’t the same
I want to be devout
but you must think that I’m insane
I’ve been here before.
Around we go.
Yeah. I know.
Try… “Try again, Amore.”
Eventually I will bleed
Transcribed from a spoken word improv night at O’Lounge, Song-tan, Republic of Korea. First performed by Karin a.k.a. Bloodjay 26/OCT/16.
I hate how everyone wants to pretend everything’s been all right all along
Like a third of the country isn’t meeting the end of their lives in the wrong
How they can take a single, powerful “Matter”
And turn into a rug when it should be a banner!
They just sweep up problems as if they never existed
When the best we on the high ground can do is assist instead of
Resisting and desisting,
Meanwhile everyone else fights to simply live with everything they are–their whole might!
And they still all fall on the wayside
I hate how all these kids are going out to play
While gunshots reign and dirty water sprays and everyone’s praying, but nobody saves–!
But that’s a normal day for this neighborhood.
And that sentence right there is meant to sit well, be chewed, and understood.
Normalcy. Right. Well.
There was this normal idea at the beginning of this country’s life that “all men are equal–except some of them.”
We’ve come a long way since that time–
I hope to God, anyway.
So when a third of this country is being swept under the rug
I hope that doesn’t sit well with all, if not some.
There are no exceptions. No exemptions. Everyone is included now.
Blacks. Hispanics. Even the black and hispanic cops.
Out there living their free lives–Everyone getting shot.
–BAM BAM–For one reason or another
Brothers and sisters split. Mothers and fathers bereft of their children just quit.
And people wonder why the city goes to shit.
People like to pretend, “Oh nothing’s wrong. Look about!”
While the house around them burns to the ground
But so help me God, if another one comes to my door with:
“Not just Black people–All lives matter! Take down that sign–just move it!
I’ll (make pounding motions, then restrain self)
So ALL lives matter? Fucking prove it.
Crazy how we covet friendship
And how it sometimes falls in your lap
You’re just a reoccurring face
Then suddenly, you’re banged on the back
Told secrets no one should know
Obligated to share something of your own
You could have been a “presence” for years
Then everyone wonders where you’ve been
It is often suspiciously subtle
That you can’t help but remain wary
Until one or two intimate encounters
Prove a group’s legitimacy
It could be a simple “hello” that binds you
A kind smile that stills your mind
Overheard jokes that prompt you to laugh
Or an equally unknown, familiar face
You’re all draw together from then on
For no other reason than to be together
For no other reason than to share Life
And to live it too