Self Hate
I think there’s nothing in the world
More beautiful than falling in love,
But falling in love
For the right reasons. Falling in love
For the right purpose. Falling in love
Falling in love
When you fall in love
What is there to compromise about? -
- Yes.
I’ve fallen in love with myself.
- Eartha Kitt
I recently learned
That I don’t really hate myself.
In fact
It’s quite the opposite.
I’ve come to believe that
No one could love me
More than I love myself,
For if I do not worship myself loudly,
How could I possibly expect someone else
To hear the calls to my altar?
Throughout time I’ve been told
My standards are too high.
I’ll be alone if I don’t lower them,
But why would I not hold another
To the standards I hold for myself.
Maybe that’s unrealistic,
But I was always told
To aim for the stars.
So I would rather walk through this life
Happy and loved
And alone
Than do it holding the hand
Of someone who drags their feet.
I have fallen in love
And why would I compromise that?
The world tells us to.
Self hatred is taught.
“Be modest,” they say.
“Be staid. Be meek.
Be compliant.”
But again why?
For to hate one’s self
Is to crumple
Under the pressures
Of society’s whims
And what did nature make me
If not a rebel?
Your Sweater
That sweater I wore
The morning you died in my arms
Still hangs in my room
Hiding behind my favorite jackets
So I can still see you when I leave the house.
The rainbows on the sleeves are faded now.
Holes and dots in the ink
Now match the stars and cosmic dust
That I felt leave as that man
Who met us out back in my old car
Helped you be
The celestial body I always knew you were.
You held the moon and the stars in your eyes.
Even on your last day
When you told us you were ready.
We held on long enough.
I like to think that rainbow sweater helped
Guide you to the fields of stardust
I know you now roam
Organic and beautiful
Like the forest where you sleep.
I remember watching the sunrise
Through foggy eyes.
Holding your head still in my lap,
Petting the space on your nose
And between your eyes
That always made you fall asleep
So you knew
You were safe and comfortable and warm.
It’s been three years now.
I still haven’t touched your sweater.
Her
I wish I’d loved her more
More than the sky who harbors the stars
More than the sea who gives endlessly to life
More than the hate I harbor for myself
I wish I’d loved her more than I love to loathe
Nothing could surpass the feelings I hold for myself
I wish I didn’t love to hate myself
More than the sky who harbors the void
More than the sea who gives endlessly to the crushing depths
More than the unending love I harbor for her
She threatened to push that hate away
But it only reared its head and pushed back harder
I wish I loved her more than the stars that live in the sky
More than the vacuum of hate that lies within
Dusty Rays
Dusty rays
Of morning’s first light
Escape through the crack
Below my yellowed blinds.
The green waters of my fish tank
Distort the beam,
Pushing hopeful prisms
Across the wrinkles of my gray satin sheets.
My little shoal
Of fancy black guppies
Race across the glass.
Six little boys urging me
Toward their breakfast of stake flakes and wafers.
My responsibilities clawing
At the walls of their enclosure.
That tank needs a good clean.
I need a good clean.
The sun peeks through the gap in my cage
Cutting the heavy air in my room.
The hope only feet away, but too far out of reach.
“Wake up,” she whispers.
“I’m waiting. Just for you.”
I roll over and close my eyes,
Ignoring her plea.
My Sun
Adorned in wax, I belong to you.
To love, to melt, to burn.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do.
Home-bound, only to you will I turn.
Blissfully I would cease to be.
For you I would drown.
Nothing but a pool of feathers and wax in the sea.
Only for you would I meet the ground,
Falling backwards, basking in the vision of your light.
Your beauty, your rays, the fuel to every thought.
Eternally thankful for the wings that took flight.
If you would have me, I would rot.
If it meant I’d be yours, only to you would I fly.
And only for you will I die.
Dirt
Clouds sit frozen in the sky
Only shifting if you stare too long
As if they could only hold one pose
For so long.
The cool grass brushes my arm
Dancing in the warm breeze,
Crawling across me
Like the feather-light walk of a spider.
The distinct smell of wild grass
And wet earth shroud me
Promising a peaceful embalming
Of grass gone to seed and dry summer air.
Below me, the worms and pillbugs
Writhe through the dirt
In the ecstasy of a dark, simple life
Knowing nothing of the green world above.
To live in such ignorance would be sweet
Moving amongst the rocks and soil and mulch,
Drawing life from whatever is left
Of death and decay.
All Consuming
You are mist
You are sunlight
You are the clouds that stroll across the skies
You are the heavens above it all
And the earth below
You are the warm wet soil
You are the delicate sprouts that spring forth from yourself
You are the worms and pill bugs that know nothing else
You are the life of all things
And their imminent death
You are the sweet smell of decay that permeates the forest floor
You are the rocks below that were once alive
You are the all consuming fungus that carries each of us to our end
You are my everything
And yet you are nothing at all.
Reverie
I still can feel you
Coming to life under the
Touch
Of skilled hands.
You silent call to me
When you’ve gone too long,
Starved.
In the quiet stillness I ache
To hear you sing.
The friction of skin.
My gentle touch
Sounding echos
Through your body’s soul.
Holding a bow to your strings,
The music you make
Akin to the musing melodies
Of Thaïs.
Your dying breath
Her final harmonic in my ear.
These soft moments
Catching shimmers of clear moon light
On still glass waters
Fleeting and tragic.
What is a musician
Without an instrument to love?
So to hear your suite music once more
Skilled luthiers placed you
In my wanting hands.