About deciding to get clean
I remember
the sickness of this bedroom.
I
remember forfeiting to the fun-house mirrors of my mind.
I remember
screeching halts that came and never went.
I remember
straining to hold and the muscles turning white.
I remember
being petrified to make a sound.
I remember
hearing footsteps crush the hallway,
and the
moment I realized it was the beat of my own heart.
I remember
listening to music for falling off cliffs.
I remember
pulling threads from my eyelids like tricks from a tophat.
I remember
the poison never leaving my lips.
Remember
sucking my own marrow dry
Remember
lending every last possibility to god, begging, "Please let that not be
the sun rising."
I remember
shrapnel going for a ride in my spine.
I remember
the heat at night and street lamps pressing themselves into the sky.
I remember
being impressed with life as much as the mess.
Remember white chunks of earth reaching upward from
the ground.
I remember
gymnastic tricks of light, and thanking the universe for its gifts.
I remember
breathing in the sweat and soot of forgotten things,
and never
learning to ask for something better.
I remember
a confused cornucopia of desires reaching out their tendrils in the dark.
I remember
my permission lingering somewhere close to where I
might have
left it.
I remember
scratching every gift I ever unwrapped.
I remember
being fascinated.
I remember
the echo of imagination through empty space.
I remember
the moment I understood that innocence is only remarkable to
those
who've lost it.
I remember
my memories never finding peace.
I remember
being calmed by what I could not explain.
I remember
melting pixels into liquid.
I
remember them hitting the veins.
I remember
confusing abuse with freedom,
and
shrinking too small for my own skin.
I remember
diastolic earthquakes.
I remember
the last time I ever felt satisfied. I remember it being too long ago.
I remember
scattering like ash into a sidewalk gutter.
I remember
that being the day I knew I'd had enough.
8/31/04
