i am everywhere at once
in my head
it rewinds like elasticized tape
stretched and pulled through the reading glass of my head
two-times, three-times fast-forward
she screams:
she screams over and over again
I watch her overdose
In the room I was not in
My hands go numb (in real life)
But what does that matter?
I am in the room I was not in watching her struggle with the cap
Silently opening it
And the TV static flickers
She’s screaming again
Asking for myself
(This is a different time)
But what does that matter?
She’s screaming and pleading for the HELP I cannot provide
I do not know what she wants
She cannot tell me what she wants
JUST TELL ME
JUST TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK TO DO
TELL ME WHAT TO DO
TELL ME AND I’LL DO IT
This is the room where I always fear she’ll die
where my shoulders grow heavy
the closed door I’m not permitted to cross
that, sometimes, on the silent days,
I push my ears close to listen
and in the eerie, testy silence
I pray to a god I don’t believe in
God never helped
I had to fashion myself as a god
Pulling myself out of the muck
And learn in the
all the ways
(this poem is left unfinished.)