Spring Poems II; In Which I Make Too Many Paper Metaphors

FORGOTTEN POETRY FOUND IN JOURNALS
Funny how it could have been written yesterday:

Crossed-legged
Elbows resting on the sides of the tub
Head hanging down
In the stocks
Punishing myself for being sad without reason
Waiting for it to pass

…..
 

SITTING IN BED WRITING BEFORE YOU CAME IN AND SAID:

I sit in bed journaling, knees to chest, butt sinking into the mattress, chin nearly on chest
These shoulders hunch and I collapse in on myself
Crumbling, breaking inward, imploding, a split-level heart
There’s a sink hold in my stomach that I disappear into
Smaller and smaller
Painfully smaller
Folding myself in half and half again
Like folding a note, a note with no destination, one no one will ever read
Paper girl, all creases and hole punches to fit in another’s binder, stapled together where I ripped myself apart
“You look incredibly sad,” you said
“Made of paper,” I thought. “Crinkled, a ball tossed into the trash.”

…..

ORIGAMI GIRL:

The corners of my mouth feel tied to the ground
No strength left to smile
My lower back aches from slouching, from bending
Creased stomach – a line across which I fold
Origami girl
All folds and creases, even when I stand and straighten
There’s no iron for these wrinkles, no steamer hot enough to press out depression
Forever folding and unfolding along the same lines
One day I will break – tear along the perforation I’ve created
Like such fragile paper

…..

STAPLES:

I stapled together the pages in my journal that are too embarrassing to revisit
Too dark to share, too dark to even reread, or edit, or understand
Best leave them be

…..

 
FOOLED:

I am not really the woman I was when we laughed
I am only ever the woman who cried on the phone so long ago, our first long talk
I fooled you
When we laid in the grass watching the moon eclipse, laughing at passers-by when they asked if we were okay
Look at the moon we said
Jest
They were the lost ones, not us on the ground
When we brunched like champs, danced in the car, sang to the dog
Me on my best days
Me with my mask
Underneath all crumbles and tears on wet paper

…..

UNEXPLAINED:

Unexplained sadness also has no explanation on how to be rid of it

…..
 

ON BEING DRUNK WITH A MIGRAINE:

This feels like the chlorine haze from youth
A halo of light around every object
Made the walk home from our community pool just a bit magical
Tired, hot, dreamy haze
Daze
Best sleep of the summer

 
Wine halos surround all objects in the dark
Moon light and wine light bathe the world in a softer glow, less harsh, no less dreamy
Different kind of tired, adult tired
Eyes half-closed with a migraine that the wine has only made worse
Sensitive eyes see more halos than ever
The only way to capture the magic of pool-induced chlorine contentment
Dizzy in the dark

Pool drunk child
Wine drunk adult
Haze
Eyes unfocused and tired
Daze 

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