Home > Uncategorized > Whatever You Do, Don’t

Whatever You Do, Don’t

Your hands are full of darkness,
a cruel want, a kiss,
someone else’s apple,
the clean crunch
of a heart under a heel,
a name
like an apology
that pivots
as a bullet hole,
through and through,
all exit wound,
all exit.

Look down
at the reckless perfection
of your fingers:
call up the memory
of skin on skin,
slipping from one hunger
to another, never
calling it what it is—
whatever you do,
don’t look in the mirror,
don’t dig up forgiveness
by the roots,
don’t believe the rumors,
never mind that you
started them yourself.

You are someone’s reason for living.
You are someone’s reason for leaving.
You are a body, a shot glass,
a fit of tequila, slow burn,
a prayer candle
in a church that’s burning down—
now, what?

Sooner or later, your heart
will burst for the wrong reasons,
a reminder
that all love is a flood,
that sorrow
is textured like a bruise,
that doubt lingers
like a broken wishbone—
what if what if what if?

This story is always yours,
always someone else’s—
beginning with a name
no one says aloud.

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