Turbulence

Nine of Swords

I face my deepest fears and heal them.
I face my deepest fears and heal them.
I face my deepest fears and heal them.
 
Life hurts.
 
Little instances tuck themselves in the periphery of time, 
of highways, of stomach aches///
Desert Inn’s 
and pharmacies,
cords cut, 
empires sewn at the smile
a fierce hurt that stings 
cracks open the crown of maggots 
crawling to greet whatever is willing to rot
 
a dreama mane of dirty hair
broken teeth 
fall whenever you look up at the sun
 
you fall apart with the wrong kind of sleep
or lack of good dreams
 
<you relish the release of a friendship lost>
 
you try to slough 
off the skin that dries with the bite
of desert cold
nose bleeds
 
you are many flames 
breeding oracles to unsex
 
a to-do list hangs on the side of your jaw, 
you chew the grit—you spit
 
mixing sometimes equals immiscibility,
twitching turns heresy into tepid pigs
slaughtered skin
feels good
against a caring hand
step inside
rise
 
sing.
 
Face your deepest fears and kill them
Face your deepest fears and kill them
Face your deepest fears and kill them
 
Life only hurts when you’re living