Beyond Laniakea, the immense heavens,
Galaxies cluster by the billions.
Each a steward
Of one hundred thousand million stars.
Beyond Laniakea, the immense heavens,
Galaxies cluster by the billions.
Each a steward
Of one hundred thousand million stars.
TW…psychiatric hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self harm, the Temple
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My doctor asked me to write down warning signs
I wrote “praying”
And he asked me why
I know I haven’t been to the temple in a while
But I’d know these white walls anywhere
A nurse helps me change into a hospital gown
I think I fell asleep standing up
“Welcome sister, can I see your recommend?”
I sign the consent to treatment form.
“In the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost”
The ER doctor takes his hands off my head and sits next to me
“We’re very lucky you didn’t take enough to hurt yourself, but this is clearly a cry for help.”
I have paid a price you cannot fathom
To claim an authenticity you but freely enjoy.
See me.
Lift the hands which hang down and be my rearward.
See me as I press forward.
I am not coming to join you in a great and spacious building
But as a brother and as a sister under the boughs of love.
Be careful claiming God incites your stories Because poems can be misread And it is likely that your children will misread them
On loving glass women Glass men And glass gods On welding your hands To curved iron rods On fruit made of sunlight That burns when you eat On wars that you fight With shattered retreats On grey trees And grey neighbors Grey houses Grey time On boundaries of smoke And holograph lines On the girl made of starstuff And the boy forged in coal On babies held hostage On shards in your soul On trauma that's bitter And trauma that's sweet On candy nails And broken feet
Did you not possess me in the beginning;
before your works of old?
Did you not cover me in my mother’s womb?
You are compassionate and merciful;
You do not cast away your people which you foreknew.
Am I not the workmanship of thine own hands?
Did you not form me in your glory?
Have you not chosen me,
by sanctifying me as I came forth from the womb? Continue reading
You are the silent sin of Sodom.
You and your polished granite stone.
You guide the strings of a marionette,
and believe you have no sins for which to atone.
I’m sitting here in this frigid cold,
looking in beyond the glass.
Where is this sword and shield,
to protect me from those who harass? Continue reading
I remember when you kissed my hand Like softly pouring rain There's not a single fracture in my soul That dared to stay the same I still feel your fingers laced in mine Trying not to change the past And this everything you left with me Is endless. It is vast. My head is filled with could-have-beens And houses by the sea While Gods of grey remind me That we do not love for free I will never touch your hand again We are finite, laced with pain But on nights when whispers haunt me I'll pretend you're in the rain I'll pretend you paint the sunsets And the shapes inside the clouds I'll pretend that I'd have no regrets If I'd dared to love out loud
When I was a child you spoke of a room Where the universe sat on a throne And the stars and the planets and asteroid bands Were etched into windows and stone And the floor was composed of the gods we had known In eons that long since had passed Where you wrapped me in starstuff adorned with a cloud And said love would be there if I asked Continue reading