the missing blood:
The day
when my blood
disappeared
i think i was on the verge
between
puberty’s edges
and the women’s council
suddenly
i became
dizzy without it,
but i had wished it
on accident
the night before
on accident
threw it out at a patch of stars
on accident
they were playing the music
of saturn
outside near my window.
so since then
i’ve been replaced with water.
a martyr of sorts
you can just bottle me up
sell me in quartz...
that's where she found me
in a store called
Insanity
and she seemed
a doll in a movie
so pretty....
unassuming,
i went back to
being a child
touching
without knowing
what that is
to admire
too purely.
We like to
toss the velvet
leftovers
into the middle
and roll about...
sometimes i stop when
she laughs
if
I tell her it
scratches
the skin
of my back
as though
my senses are warped,
as if they exceed
where others fall short
and green
my green
is really purple...
and grass
is just not so simple...
but
there’s no compromise
in my universe
so
I wait
for my settlement
to break
or my mirror
to suddenly look different
maybe my eyes
will turn brown
or my skin
will be cocoa
and everything I really am
will come out and clean.
all of that
which is waiting
like instead of just saying
we leave the words
praying
on the tips of our tongues.
or just maybe
my smile will seem larger
and that will be that
except my hands
won’t have to tell my story
all alone anymore
maybe
i will find the missing
piece of sky...
and find the patch of stars
i saw that night...
And this world will
suddenly have logic
maybe
i will have logic
and the toil
of my morals
will feel rewarded
and the missing blood
with flow back
into me
at the end of the day...
and all the doctors
they don’t understand me.
as my
blood muscle
is poked
never with their hands
small instruments
of fury
they seem
always in a hurry
made of blue metal
and green wallpaper
their smell
is like death
without its beauty...
they touch it
and proclaim
with open mouths,
and bitter tongues
“It’s black...!”
but they never ask
why
they only ask
how
and this is my hand
see it?
it’s extended
to protect my heart
from the shame
that’s recommended
I’ve been prescribed
with mourning
for not reflecting
red
as the others
and...
and...
and the day
when my blood
disappeared
i think i was on the verge
between
puberty
and
being a woman
and suddenly
i was dizzy without it
but i had wished it
on accident
the night before
to a patch of stars
that played to the music
of saturn
outside near my window.
so since then
i’ve been replaced with water.
a martyr of sorts
bottle me up
sell me in quartz
she found me
in a store called
insanity.
when my blood
disappeared
i think i was on the verge
between
puberty’s edges
and the women’s council
suddenly
i became
dizzy without it,
but i had wished it
on accident
the night before
on accident
threw it out at a patch of stars
on accident
they were playing the music
of saturn
outside near my window.
so since then
i’ve been replaced with water.
a martyr of sorts
you can just bottle me up
sell me in quartz...
that's where she found me
in a store called
Insanity
and she seemed
a doll in a movie
so pretty....
unassuming,
i went back to
being a child
touching
without knowing
what that is
to admire
too purely.
We like to
toss the velvet
leftovers
into the middle
and roll about...
sometimes i stop when
she laughs
if
I tell her it
scratches
the skin
of my back
as though
my senses are warped,
as if they exceed
where others fall short
and green
my green
is really purple...
and grass
is just not so simple...
but
there’s no compromise
in my universe
so
I wait
for my settlement
to break
or my mirror
to suddenly look different
maybe my eyes
will turn brown
or my skin
will be cocoa
and everything I really am
will come out and clean.
all of that
which is waiting
like instead of just saying
we leave the words
praying
on the tips of our tongues.
or just maybe
my smile will seem larger
and that will be that
except my hands
won’t have to tell my story
all alone anymore
maybe
i will find the missing
piece of sky...
and find the patch of stars
i saw that night...
And this world will
suddenly have logic
maybe
i will have logic
and the toil
of my morals
will feel rewarded
and the missing blood
with flow back
into me
at the end of the day...
and all the doctors
they don’t understand me.
as my
blood muscle
is poked
never with their hands
small instruments
of fury
they seem
always in a hurry
made of blue metal
and green wallpaper
their smell
is like death
without its beauty...
they touch it
and proclaim
with open mouths,
and bitter tongues
“It’s black...!”
but they never ask
why
they only ask
how
and this is my hand
see it?
it’s extended
to protect my heart
from the shame
that’s recommended
I’ve been prescribed
with mourning
for not reflecting
red
as the others
and...
and...
and the day
when my blood
disappeared
i think i was on the verge
between
puberty
and
being a woman
and suddenly
i was dizzy without it
but i had wished it
on accident
the night before
to a patch of stars
that played to the music
of saturn
outside near my window.
so since then
i’ve been replaced with water.
a martyr of sorts
bottle me up
sell me in quartz
she found me
in a store called
insanity.