breaking bones

i once broke into the heart of a whale to see if it could fit
more than mine. i broke my birth mother’s pelvis as i was coming
out with the force of my silence. but i curled in on myself with
crumpled audacity and watched as people turned to scab and fell
off. i picked at them so they would scar to better remember them,
they looked like a row of puckered lips on my arms. when i fell
into his mouth there were no puckers, not that kind of smacking.
i never felt more alive than when i wanted to die, never had
that kind of longing for mechanical motion and tempered teeth.
some people you never see again. there are things just as
permanent as death that are just as effective. i always moved
with the intent of leaving, every hello being a guarantee of
a goodbye, that kind of certainty in duality. the very fact
that you were always there being a promise that you would one
day leave. you broke my breastbone where my heart burst with
the force of its silence. scar tissue sealing my mouth shut.



  1. You paint beautiful pictures… Breaking in and breaking breastbones, with silence. I like it.
    The form of the poem is very unusual. It doesn’t sound as much like a poem as just someone telling a (somewhat incomprehensive) story, explaining things in a poetic way.
    Maybe that’s what makes the poem what it is. The words are just there, instead of being piled up and folded neatly into lines and paragraphs. It certainly makes it special.


  2. moving words. keep sharing.

    Greetings, how are you?

    Inviting you to join our poetry potluck today,

    Week 43 is free verse week, submit 1 to 3 random poems, enjoy the fun!

    Hope to see you soon.
    Happy Tuesday.
    Sign in to follow our blog using your gmail or yahoo accounts…


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