Watching me. Did I see those eyes,
holding deep in bitter iris, the word
' yes,' as if they promised something
I did not deserve, forming only to
mock, as if betrayal were a badge
I wore, unseen only by me, marker
made invisible by denial; disguised
tattoo, carved, curled, stabbed ink
into flesh, waiting, desperate, for
a sign, a symbol that I existed,
even if only in the arms of pain,
even if only in shallow hurting;
slicing flesh as I had done myself,
so many times, nicking and then
cutting deep through bursting blood
and patient flesh, searching down,
down, down, hoping to find in
the roil of bleeding, a surge of
life which would tell me I was
real - made manifest in and of
material being, formed solid so
a hand could touch, hold and
know truth of Self, surely enough
for heart to whisper: 'This is me.'
And yet, in those times of sullen
sleep, those dark days and bright
nights, where all blurs in deadly
weeping, the voice calls ever
louder, that the heart too can lie,
that nothing can be believed in
any certain way; that I am only
real when I am watching me.
https://dversepoets.com/2016/04/28/golden-rooster-stands-on-one-leg/
holding deep in bitter iris, the word
' yes,' as if they promised something
I did not deserve, forming only to
mock, as if betrayal were a badge
I wore, unseen only by me, marker
made invisible by denial; disguised
tattoo, carved, curled, stabbed ink
into flesh, waiting, desperate, for
a sign, a symbol that I existed,
even if only in the arms of pain,
even if only in shallow hurting;
slicing flesh as I had done myself,
so many times, nicking and then
cutting deep through bursting blood
and patient flesh, searching down,
down, down, hoping to find in
the roil of bleeding, a surge of
life which would tell me I was
real - made manifest in and of
material being, formed solid so
a hand could touch, hold and
know truth of Self, surely enough
for heart to whisper: 'This is me.'
And yet, in those times of sullen
sleep, those dark days and bright
nights, where all blurs in deadly
weeping, the voice calls ever
louder, that the heart too can lie,
that nothing can be believed in
any certain way; that I am only
real when I am watching me.
https://dversepoets.com/2016/04/28/golden-rooster-stands-on-one-leg/
I really like this... we do tend to detach ourselves, to the point that we need to cause pain to see the world as real... I love your enjambment.
ReplyDeleteThis is very raw and powerful. The way it's constructed, the choice of line breaks and stanzas, echo the feel of the small cuts the poem describes; they're sharp and arresting.
ReplyDeleteNicely done!
ReplyDeleteI like the line breaks as well. It is sad when one must feel pain to find themselves, feeling that invisible. A very heart wrenching and powerful poem.
ReplyDeletemock, as if betrayal were a badge
ReplyDeleteI wore, unseen only by me, marker
made invisible by denial
This is soo powerful!!
This touches and cuts to my heart simultaneously! Very well written, The flow and form creates the feeling that you describe so passionately.
ReplyDeleteDeophotography.wordpress.com works, through photography, with the tragedy you've described.
ReplyDeleteSuch a descent into darkness. I read this as an insight into what drives a person into cutting and you help me to just barely guess the deeper pain that is behind it all. Victoria
ReplyDeletePowerful. I've known a "cutter," and it is such a sad thing to see someone who can only feel real through pain.
ReplyDeleteThis sad tale resonates deeply with me.
ReplyDelete