Make It Stop

You shouldn’t hold your emotions in like that, they are bound to bubble up someplace else.

It is possible to bruise the bone, to hurt in places that do not show.

Will never show.

Can never, ever show.

I watch my eyes in the mirror as I brush my hair. Primal flash. Alive light.

Windows to the soul that take you all the way back to the beginning, to the instant of your own creation. Divine flicker. When you were born you were already sorry.

Before it all became silence and static when you scream.

Before you began to sever the ties you once had to yourself.

Now you are a drifter, alone at sea… invisible.

I let dark desires melt my dreams like candle wax, hot with scorch, flowing, flowing as a gown or a stabbing. You watch through a screen with the sound turned off.

Tempting them to ruin my senses. Begging them to annihilate my mind.

I need to know what I am.

I crawl across the floor.

I stare off into the naked distant dark.

I part my lips and my legs and the seven chambers of my heart

and the soft thick current which runs through me

moves forward and back, north and south, east and west,

each opposite at once

sending sensations into the Whole.

The sign of the cross is not a religious ritual it is a reflection of the threshold within the human body and soul. We are a crossroads. We contradict ourselves but at the center is the truth. Is the only true destination.

I draw an imaginary line from my eyes to my finger tips.

The map of my breasts and the nautical measurements of the tides of my sex; coordinates of the smoldering mind of God.

Desire is a pendulum swinging swift and smooth. I listen with the mouth of my blood.

Slide my hands up over my head against the wall.

The weight of my emotion floods me, drowns me, kills me.

I touch the mirror to try to steady myself.

All I want is to fall through to another dimension.

I know how to feel everything.

But I don’t know how

to make it stop.