lagoon

I’ve been waking up in lagoons of sweat,

stampedes galloping throughout my chest,

rocket ships launching out of my skull,

& a deafening, alienating lull. 

Bye, bye baby,

I broke the screen door

chasing you back to the war.

I’m absent now, without leave

praying to gods that you believe

can hear & heal & show the way

but I can’t see through this fog,

can’t get through this fray.

I’ve been whispering lies to myself

at night 

praying to you that you’ll see my light.

I made you God,

how unfair is that?

I made you God,

& me all bad.

The altar is missing,

the rosary cracked.

The incense burning

reeks of death.

I wanted to resuscitate,

reanimate,

resurrect.

But the lightyears of distance,

both literal & manifest,

gives me pause we were ever the best

for each other or for ourselves

or for the futures on our shelves.

But my fist is clenched, I can’t let go.

Our silence stretching, it grows & grows.

You sit on my chest, heavy as the moon.

You sit in my soul, deeper than the lagoon.

I want to envelop, to hold you forever,

but I’m losing my grip, I feel myself sever.

I don’t know how to retain myself,

or if you even want me to.

I don’t know how to retain myself

& be in love with you.