I Fell Up the Stairs Yesterday and My Hand Hasn’t Stopped Tingling

I Fell Up the Stairs Yesterday and My Hand Hasn’t Stopped Tingling

I put these things away
determined not to take them out again.
they are sharp,
and I may be bitter,
but I know better.

they say the leading cause of death
is heart disease,
but they haven’t done any research
on how apathy and numbness
may be contributing factors.

I can’t feel the corners of my mouth
when I smile, anymore.
webmd doesn’t have a condition
that accounts for how I feel.

I could try to explain
how deeply I’ve been cut,
but it won’t help the sutures
go in any faster.

and you have no idea how hard it is
to watch
as the same ground I’ve already covered
gets pulled out from under my feet.

I’ll lie here for awhile.
listen to the birds
and stare at the blue sky
wondering when the rain will come.

I fear so many things.



there is something to be said,
but naming such things allows
air to move into its place,
hollow and stale.

I have held the hand,
know it by first name,
recognize the rose color of its cheeks.
big eyes and clenched jaws,
they force air through their teeth
like water.

I can call a spade,
a spade because it is one.
and no amount of polish will shine it up,
narrow it down enough
for it to be a hammer,
wielded to bash in teeth,
focused on primordial urges.

we cannot see the graves
we step over,
the body count piling up,
on our way through hell.

I keep my mouth shut.
stripped down to inner workings,
auto-pilot on lock.

I am nothing.
I know that now.