Conversation With Empty Turned Memory

I wake up with my stomach,

hey, I’m empty here.

I will wish you well

ignorantly turning

either side. I can’t

ignore growling,

walk through walls!

greet the day!

feed me!

Yeah, well,

I’d rather free

my mind forevermore.

You are not a human too,

dear old tummy, only a part

of my humanity. You urge,

eat the chocolate hearts,

drink the smoothie

on bedside table.

Oh, I don’t suppose

eating/drinking

makes my left hand

a shovel to bury what is

lost, praying mess found

warrants a kiss forgiveness.

I know you’ve heard my heart—

Jesus, I want to belong to you,

but I don’t understand why I cry

inside the waking sleep, you

s[eaking unfailing love, peace,

all is well, my over my broken.

I’d rather make you proud,

see, Daddy, I’m self-sufficient.

I can, okay? Let me keep

wasting time pretending

I know independence .

When you are barren,

I remember, stomach.

I am a thick-headed thief,

setting my sights on glossy

pages in a top notch magazine,

again brought low by cry:

I hurt too Julia. Oh my

darlin’ weep, rage, sit still

& I will follow. We’ll have

the best day of your life.

I need you reminding

I am no hologram,

no gypsy girl

running down

the worldly drug.

money, money

money. A way

to the future,

they’ve told me.

I’ll get somewhere

if I work, work, work.

They don’t know I have

without love. You saw

the way I looked over

at her. Again, again,

again. She said, why

do you keep looking

over at me? You

anticipating my reaction?

She seemed mad,

or scared for me.

You watched

my shame blushing

my cheeks, frequencies

showing I didn’t mean

hurting her. We were

watching TV, I fixed

on her face flushed

red. Worry lines

I wanted to erase

somehow.

I wonder

if she knew

I wasn’t seeking

invasion of privacy,

but clarification

she loved me.

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3 thoughts on “Conversation With Empty Turned Memory

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