I bite down
bitter taste welling up under my tongue
since when did these sharp thoughts
become the norm
I spent years training myself
to taste sweet where there’s bitterness
like sticky sweet candy
instead, I became red wine
a hint of sweet, under a layer of tangents
it takes a certain tongue to learn my notes
I always loved the look of red wine
but each sip overwhelmed
maybe I will learn to love the taste

I never felt more alive -more free
then I did on that night summers drive
we drove for an hour on a mere whim
to a place I used to live
a place so full of
isolation
-of disgusted faces and sharp judging eyes
-of seasons changing from a single window
-of holding onto what little you could
-of learning how to live without

as I drove with windows down
your hand riding the wind outside
nothing looked the same
nothing had changed

I parked in a cornfield on the same road of my grandmas old farm
and we spun in circles in the middle of the road
listening to our brand of music from tinny phone speakers
I guess we must have driven a bit too far
to have seen the name of another state on the screen

when I think of myself I’m never here
I think about who I am
and I think of
closed doors/white walls/music in my head
/patterns beaten into carpet

and I think of
sitting on the bus/living behind my eyes
/blank faces staring out of windows

and I think of
bright worlds/mundane things with people who don’t exist
/wielding a dagger of words/of misunderstandings
and tragedies/surviving and growing stronger
/of smiling in the face of peril

and I think of
betrayal/****** /being missed/growing wings
/becoming goddess/becoming wind/being loved
and feared in equal amounts/of people who don’t exist
still being there

and I blink

-it’s the same small white room
with a window that changes seasons by the hour



I think I don’t know who I am