Count me out

Count me out – I’m not coming: I can’t muster the strength

To exhale: I am drowning, and don’t want to be saved

/

I don’t want to be dragged up this thin shot-line to noise

I’m at home here – it’s quiet, but for my mind’s own voice:

/

It says I’ve got a mother; I reply: ‘but she knows…’

It says I’ve got a sister yet, she recalls me not

/

It says I love the mountains, and to read, and to smile;

I reply: ‘there is nothing that I love – you are lying,’

/

It insists I’ve a chance still to undo all my wrongs

But beyond good and evil there is no one I owe;

/

It begs that I forgive those who have hurt me to death

But I couldn’t, I’m sorry: I’m not as good as this

/

Then, it whispers a prayer to a god in some tongue

And I give it a moment till its voice is all gone

/

Gone’s the line I was holding, gone my breath, gone all hope;

The screams of pain from my chest let me know I’ve reached home

/

Count me out – I’m not coming: I can’t muster the strength

To keep myself from leaving shallow waters for depth

The Dolphin

A seagull’s wing might glide above me,
Sometimes, a passing boat would cast a shade,
But since the day I turned into a dolphin
I have been roaming ocean depths, lonely in my escape

I never could return to humans,
Where all my loving family still hopes
That one day I turn back into the woman,
Whom I detested, from whom I eloped

Nor could I jump, or laugh, or play with dolphins:
There is a staleness in my eyes, my heart
They feel, and know I am unlike them,
I just pretend to be and, thus, I try too hard

I am alone in this embrace with water,
In my refusal to leave prints on Earth;
My reveries are deep enough to drown in,
And as I drown, I will not alter course

Too Deep

There is nothing, there is no one, there’s no colour, there’s no light

And my feelings don’t cast shadows, and my heartbeat’s lost in tides;

There’s no sound to pierce or wound me, there’s nobody I could hurt

There is nothing to hold onto – not a particle of dirt

 

I am black, and cold and solid; I am blue and fluid and calm

I don’t think, I am not though of; I’m alive although I’ve drowned

My thick sorrow turns to rapture; my old scars all bleed and laugh

I’m dissolving, vaguely conscious of one thing: it’s not enough

 

Ghosts of numbers robbed of meaning by the abyss that I face

Drift away into oblivion: they can’t measure all this space

Where there’s nothing, where there’s no one, where I’m just another drop;

You… I wish I didn’t love you – because then I wouldn’t stop