poem 1

I stare the chalk, down

I soak the wall, in

The music is too, loud

Too loud and the fragments of chalk sandpaper

Repeat

Too loud and scratch patterns of chalking paper

Swim tightly, crushing my teeth, lightly

Chalk powdering wet crumb-boulders

into my shrunken

lungs

until I

collapse

 

I give into the heat

and my hands go hard

Letting my blood go thick

I’m letting my people drown

On either side of

me

And I feel the veins hit me

in my chalk-ribbed rocking boat

My lips – sails

My legs – ropes

And in a thousand high chords

The strings of anxiety of my wrists

Are pulling a million invisible seams

Apart until I

collapse