Poems

Legs

"hey, wait come back here!"
and it was summer when i said it.
and i said it so easily, and back then you
had the legs to come back.
you have legs now, too, just colder ones.
and then, the colder toes too.
and i guess it feels selfish to ask for you back.
but if someone were to tell me
that it was indeed possible,
and that i would not set off the balance of Earth
by wishing for your soul to swoop on down and
settle back into your belly, then well, i would.
i wish there was a different way to speak.
maybe you'd want to know that i am wondering really deeply
about how it was
when the two parts of you were in your body
for the last time.
and what if in the last few seconds,
you remembered the Earth? and her hands,
they scratched and clawed and yelled for you.
and your eyes adjusted and you wanted to stay.
you tried to scream for your legs; (the warmer ones).
asking for survival and realizing you can't?
and your lips didn't move,
and your toes didn't budge. they were already so cold.
you didn't have anyone there to hold your blood and bones,
lay them out like a map and wonder how to bring you home;
try to show you how to stay here? sage:
you were not a simulation. i shouldn't have to
make your death into art, it doesn't make it any prettier,
you were not a mistake. not a cracked jaw,
not a genocide, inherent death. leaked acid,
placid face screaming for something deeper.
running through the streets like you might be caught
like someone might find you and say "get the hell out of me,"
i never wanted you to come out of me, sage, i would never
make you into a metaphor for my own mouth:
you were not here on accident.
you were here as a vessel of God, i swear to you,
God took an oath for you, and i'm not talking
about some white man with a beard on a cloud
i'm talking about the epitome of an existence,
i'm talking about the soulessness of suicide and
the regret and sorrow in God's consciousness
knowing everything is so alive and none of us can see it,
sage no one will forget you.
your soul lives, fluttering in the oxygen,
a part of my cells now, a part of me,
replacing some of the God in me with your own breath,
i love you. please don't ever do this again."

-spencer wollan